


The Devil Will Take Your Hand

by saucyminx



Series: Devil Verse [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-10
Updated: 2010-11-10
Packaged: 2017-10-28 07:32:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 37,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/305385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saucyminx/pseuds/saucyminx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Ruby ... were a Demon named Dean.</p><p>The fourth story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

People would say Sam was crazy. Sam was pretty sure he might be, or getting close to it at least. There was that time, a week or so after Lucifer was let free and Dean’s soul left the body he’d possessed, that Sam kidnapped a nurse. It was kind of a blur, he didn’t hurt her or anything, but he knew that he wasn’t doing what was best for Dean’s body, and Sam desperately needed the body to be okay when Dean came back.

Because... Dean would come back. Sam knew it. He wasn’t sure how long it would take, or how it would happen, or what it would be like when it did, but he _knew_ Dean would come back. Dean loved him, he was one of only _maybe_ two people ever in the world who had loved him and that had to be enough. So he kidnapped the nurse and showed her the big bag of supplies he had and asked her as nicely as possible to show him out to take care of Dean.

There had been a gun to her head for a while there, but she seemed to come around, or at least was intimidated enough to teach Sam what he needed to know. He’d never been more grateful that he was fast learner. It was frankly pretty gross, the things he had to do to preserve Dean’s body in its coma state but Sam could get over it. Especially at night time, when he curled up against the man he didn’t even know the real name of and sought that comfort.

One time, Sam thought he felt the man moving and had this horrible dream about the man waking from his coma and completely losing it. That was around the time when Sam started talking, out loud, as if he could soothe any lingering presence that might be in the man’s body. He was pretty sure there wasn’t one, but just in case.

They kept moving, bouncing around from city to city, through states until Sam had zigzagged back and forth across the USA nearly three times. Every other day he was driving for hours, sometimes with Dean’s body half slumped over his lap, sometimes with him nestled in the back like he’d simply had too much to drink.

Sam didn’t hunt, not like he used to, instead he sought out book after book, trying spell after spell to summon Dean from hell just long enough to get him in the man’s body once more.

Sam ate in the motel rooms, only leaving Dean when he absolutely had to. He bathed him, changed his IVs and catheters, and stole medical supplies from the hospital storage rooms whenever he was running low. In every motel he salted the windows and doors, stored hex bags, made new ones just in case. Sam never stepped out in public without a hex bag on his person because he wasn’t playing any more games with angels and demons.

Not unless he had Dean back.

“We should go to the beach,” Sam said one morning after he’d woken up. He was still lying in bed, running his fingers slowly around Dean’s chest. He couldn’t say for sure how much time exactly had passed but it was starting to show on Dean’s body, his muscles were loosening, his skin was paling, and his waist was thinning. “You could use some sun.”

Sam laughed softly as if they were sharing a private joke and slowly leaned forward, gently kissing the corner of Dean’s mouth. It was strange, the way Sam knew exactly what it felt like when those lips moved against his but when he kissed Dean now, he could never get it quite right. More and more Sam was beginning to realize that the body had absolutely nothing to do with it. He kept him now because Dean had liked being in him, because it had seemed comfortable and familiar, and because Dean needed somewhere to go when that time came.

If Sam had already lost his mind, he didn’t really care, he just needed Dean. And that feeling wasn’t going to go away. Sam would be clinging to Dean for the rest of his life because... that was the only reason he bothered living any more. He ignored the strange things happening on the news, the signs and worrisome details, and most of all he ignored any angels or demons that might be looking for him.

Which meant that Sam had either really lost his mind or the hex bags weren’t working when he woke up one night and everything was off. Dean was still there in the bed beside him but he wasn’t alone, and no mattered how hard Sam stared, the image wouldn’t go away. It wasn’t his imagination, Sam knew that person, and his heart twisted painfully.

“You... you’re not real.” Sam whispered, pushing the blanket back and climbing off the bed.

“Oh Sam,” his mother - the image of his mother - turned to him and smiled softly, stepping forward until she was touching his cheek. “Look at you. Have you been eating? You don’t look well.”

“Mom.” Sam half gasped and stepped back, swaying away then forward. He didn’t know what he wanted more, he knew this wasn’t real but _god_ he wanted it to be. “Why are you here?”

“You call to me Sammy, I can feel it.” She sighed softly and stepped closer again, touching his arm. “Don’t you remember talking to me?”

Sam thought about it but he didn’t remember. He thought maybe he’d dreamed about her recently, but it was caught somewhere between Dean, spells, forcing himself to live and never finding the right answers, all of these insane little tasks that helped Sam distinguish between real life and dreams. “You’ve been here before?”

“Well, not here.” She smiled and cupped his shoulder, squeezing softly. “You move around so much Sam, I’m having trouble finding you.”

“I have to. There’s an answer, I’m looking for it.” Now that Sam thought about it, he could vaguely recall his mom’s voice humming a lullaby, but he thought he’d imagined that too. “This is a dream.”

“Maybe. Or, maybe I’m here to help.” She slid her hand down to Sam’s and squeezed once before breaking away, crossing to Dean at the bedside. If this was a dream, Sam couldn’t figure out why Dean wasn’t awake too. “You love this boy?”

“He’s not a boy.” Sam whispered, watching her with narrowed eyes. This wasn’t real, it couldn’t be, Sam wanted to believe it but he wasn’t yet that crazy. “He’s not there anymore.”

“I know.” She nodded and touched Dean’s cheek before looking up at him. “He loves you too. He’s been calling for you, but you can’t hear him here.”

“Where?” Sam stepped toward her, his heart flipping in his chest. “Where can I hear him? I’ll go there.”

The sad smile on his mother’s face was almost painful to watch. “Sammy, I think you know.”

Sam looked down and found he did know. Dean was in hell, that was the only place Sam would be able to hear him. And it would defeat the purpose. “I can’t go there, not now. I wouldn’t be able to find him.”

There was no answer and when Sam looked back up the room was empty.

-=-=-=-

“I think I might be losing my mind.” Sam told Dean a few mornings later, sitting beside him on the motel bed and slowly eating an omelet. “No, really. I think I am. I mean, I keep seeing her. But I know it’s not her. Why couldn’t it be you? What would you look like if you came to me? What did you look like before?”

The man, of course, did not answer or show any indication that he’d heard Sam’s words. Sam continued to eat his omelet and turned his gaze down to the latest spell book he’d acquired. It wasn’t going to help him, but he was going to try anyway.

-=-=-=-

“Sam.”

Turning in his sleep, Sam pressed up against Dean’s warmth and smiled, looping his arm over the slowly moving chest. Sometimes he wondered where he’d be locked up if someone knew he slept with a man in a coma in his bed but it wasn’t like Sam violated Dean or anything, he had standards after all.

“Sam, wake up.”

Sitting up slowly, Sam blinked over at his mother and sighed, shaking his head. “I can’t find Dean’s voice.”

“No, he’s too far away.” She touched his arm and smiled sadly. “I might be able to help you though.”

“Mom? You’re not in hell are you?” Sam didn’t think she was a ghost, that wouldn’t make sense, but he couldn’t explain it.

“Sam, you know who I am.” And as he watched her form changed, she morphed from the long blond haired image of his mother to a man, sandy brown hair, pale skin. He wasn’t anyone special, he could have been any person really, but Sam knew who he was.

“Lucifer,” he whispered, trying to be shocked but not finding it. He’d been expecting this after all. “You’re not supposed to know where I am.”

“I don’t, not really. But you were calling to me, and that pain, Sammy, I couldn’t ignore it any longer.” The man’s sad smile was quite like Sam’s mother’s and it made his stomach churn.

“I would never call for you,” Sam defended, thinking back to some of his insane ramblings. No, he couldn’t remember calling for Lucifer ever.

Lucifer laughed, softly, and shook his head. “Of course you did Sam. I will always be drawn to you, I owe you... everything really. And later, I’ll owe you even more.”

“Owe me?” Sam’s shoulders tensed and he felt the guilt he’d been fighting against since everything happened. Yeah, he knew what he did; accidentally letting Lucifer out of hell, Sam hadn’t really processed that yet.

“You freed me Sam, I appreciate that so much. And well, one day, we’ll be one, I appreciate that too.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Sam snapped, pushing off the bed because he wanted to stand between Lucifer and Dean, just in case.

“Don’t you feel it? How you call for me too? Because you’re my vessel Sam. My one, true, vessel. And one day, you’re going to let me join you. Then we’ll change everything.”

Sam’s blood ran cold and he shook his head. “No. No way. I’d never do that. Not ever.”

“Like you’d never befriend a demon or, well, fall in love with a demon.” Lucifer’s smile was just slightly mocking and he stepped around Sam, stopping by Dean’s bed side. “Poor Dean. He misses you so very much.”

“Shut up. Don’t talk about him.” Sam wanted to shove at Lucifer but he couldn’t get himself to move any closer. Until Lucifer reached out to touch Dean and Sam jumped forward, pushing him away. “Don’t touch him either.”

“I know you don’t understand this yet Sam, but you will. And you know what? I care for you, like a son, like a precious child. And I want you to be happy.” Lucifer sighed softly and looked toward the bed. “So, I’m going to give you something.”

“I don’t want anything. I don’t need your gifts.” Sam wasn’t foolish enough to think a gift from _Lucifer_ could come without strings attached.

“Not even Dean? Because I can give him to you.” Lucifer shrugged and turned away. “I’m not asking for anything Sam. Maybe, next time, you’ll hear me out. Right now though, I’ll just give you Dean. Then you’ll see I’m not here to harm you. I will always be honest with you, and I want you to be happy.”

Sam opened his mouth, ready to argue and insist that he’d get Dean back on his own, but in the next moment the image of the plain, normal man was gone. And the bed was shifting, the man there was _moving_. Just like that? Sam could hardly believe it. His heart leaped into overtime and he lunged forward, dropping to his knees beside Dean’s body on the bed.

“Dean? Dean, can you hear me?” Sam dipped down, grabbing Dean’s arms, and held his breath. So many days of losing his mind and even if it was Lucifer himself that had brought Dean back, Sam didn’t care.

There was no way Dean was going to fall for the sound of Sam's voice again. Squeezing his eyes shut tighter, he felt himself shifting, and _God_ his muscles ached. Weak and trembling, he felt like he'd been asleep for a million years. Flinching away from the sound of Sam's voice, _Sammy_ , Dean tried to pull free of the hands grasping at him. _No more,_ he just couldn't take it anymore.

“Oh god, this has to be a dream.” Sam muttered and pushed up to his feet, pacing away as he slid a hand up through his hair then turning back. “Dean?” Sam asked quietly once more and when Dean’s body moved he couldn’t help rushing back, hands passing over Dean’s body as if he could check the wounds Dean would have brought back with him from hell. “It’s me, it’s Sam, wake up Dean I’m right here.”

Dean had thought there were no more tears to cry, but even now the sound of that voice, the soothing words, the familiar softness of hands brushing over his skin - it brought him back to tears again and _made_ him take the chance once more. Letting his eyes flutter open, Dean was shocked by the light stabbing pain in his head. Moaning he turned away and felt the hands on his chest, his arms, gentle and warm not hurting him. _Yet_.

It was a different place this time, old walls, a softer bed. Just like all those motel rooms he'd stayed in with Sam. "Sam," he rasped. His throat ached and he sobbed. The sob brought with it a fit of coughing and pain lanced its way through Dean's lungs.

“Oh god, Dean.” Sam gasped softly and gathered Dean up, pulling him up and across his lap. His arms tightened around Dean and he rocked gently from side to side, trying to soothe Dean while his own disbelief was making it hard to accept that this was real. “He said he’d bring you back, I don’t get it. I don’t understand. How could he just do that? I’ve been looking for so long, I’ve been _trying_.” Sam was crying now too and he twisted Dean around, cupping his jaw to tilt his head back. “Look at me, tell me this is real.”

Shaking his head slowly, Dean felt red hot tears crawling down his face. "Not this," he groaned. There were a lot of things Dean could survive. He could survive Sam’s face being the one he saw during his time in hell, torture, pain, the torment and being made to watch his loved ones suffer similar fates. All of that he could manage, somehow, to get through even if it meant clinging to the tiny memories, the wisps of his time with Sam that they hadn't been able to take from him.

What Dean couldn't survive was thinking he'd come back, that it really was Sam who was touching him so desperately. "Not this," he whispered again, "can't take him away again." Struggling, he hadn't the slightest strength to push away, he simply sobbed, lying there in the arms he couldn't accept were real.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Sam whispered and tightened his arms around Dean, pushing his own questions to the side. They’d get there, right now apparently Dean hadn’t expected to simply wake up back in this body once more. “Dean, come on, it’s me. This is real, I don’t know why, but he brought you back to me. Just, you gotta calm down.”

Sam tried to think about what would be best, how to help Dean the most and he looked around helplessly. “Dean, will you look at me? Look, you’ll know it’s real.” Sam dipped down, trying to meet Dean’s gaze, fingers sweeping over his tear soaked cheeks.

Each time Dean tried to suck in breath his muscles shuddered, his heart beating so rapidly he felt a little dizzy. Finally, turning into the voice he loved so much, his lashes fluttered open again. Hazel eyes, full of pain, glistening with tears stared down at him. "Sammy? Are you real? Please be real."

“I’m real,” Sam whispered and framed Dean’s face in his hands, keeping him there so their gazes could lock. “This is real. You’re back, Dean. I’ve been waiting so long and here you are.” He smiled softly and leaned forward, gently kissing the tears from his cheeks. If he was dreaming this, he hoped he never woke up.

Dean's arm felt lead-heavy as he tried to lift it and something tugged at his wrist, he felt all tangled in things. "Sam? What's?" His fingers made it to Sam's cheek, the moles he had stared at so many times, the dip under his cheek bone, the smooth silkiness of his skin and the rough stubble. "Sam?"

“It’s okay, you’re hooked up to some stuff because you...” Sam sighed shakily, leaning into Dean’s touch before smiling wryly and looking away. “It’s been awhile Dean. I had to keep the body alive.”

“Body...” Dean shifted, feeling Sam’s arms tighten around him. “How long,” he whispered. Years he’d been down there in his mind. His fingers kept moving gently on Sam’s face. He looked different, so very tired, and thinner.

“Well.” Sam frowned and looked around, trying to place dates and the changing of weather in his mind. He hadn’t realized how unaware of the world passing, time slipping away, he had been. “I don’t know. A while. But I’ve taken care of you. We’ve been moving around, we’ve been safe. Except well, Lucifer but I think he wasn’t real. He didn’t know where I was, just was a dream, but he brought you back.” Sam stopped talking, all too aware how much he was rambling. He was used to just talking and Dean not answering.

“Lucifer. Lucifer’s free.” Dean closed his eyes for a few moments. “Eyes hurt,” he muttered. Everything hurt even though he was sure there were no wounds on his body, his skin still thrummed with the lingering echo of slicing metal.

“Do you want some water? I should take these out, and um, the other things.” Sam frowned down at Dean’s lap then sighed and shook his head, moving Dean to the side to push off the bed. “I let Lucifer free. I didn’t mean too, he- you were there, and Lilith, and I was so angry. I must have played right into his hands.” Sam thought about the other things Lucifer said, the vessel thing, but he decided to wait to tell Dean about it. Didn’t want to overwhelm him.

A moment later he was back at the bed with a glass of water, holding it out. “He brought you back.”

"Brought me back," Dean said softly. Not even completely aware of what he was saying. He reached over and scratched weakly at his wrist where tape was pulling.

Dean tried to take the water and when his hand shook too badly he felt Sam's fingers curl around his. The water was soothing, cool, and Dean swallowed, tried to take too much and choked slightly.

“For me.” Sam whispered, leaning forward slightly to watch Dean. “What can I do?” He didn’t know where to start with Dean. Sam had no idea what a stint in hell might have done to Dean, but he remembered what Dean had been like when he’d come back after only a day or two. This had to be so much worse.

“Dean? What do you need? Food? I could bathe you; I’ve gotten good at that. I could keep reading to you. Oh, you probably don’t remember that. Do you want candy? I have snickers, you like snickers still, right?” Sam twitched forward, nervous and uncertain.

"You," Dean whispered. He let Sam take the glass away and wiped at his mouth. "Can you... take these away?" Lifting his hand, he scratched at the tape on his wrist again and sighed.

“Yeah.” Sam had enough experience changing the IVs and everything so he slipped them out with practiced ease, tossing them into the trash can. He pushed Dean down without a word and slid hands down his body, frowning when he pulled the other tube out of Dean. “Sorry, it was... you know, for the body.” Sam shrugged and slid back, gathering Dean close and tucking him under the blanket. “I’ve missed you so much Dean.”

"Sam, y'ok?" Dean turned his head slowly, vision blurring and clearing as he tried to focus on Sam. _His_ Sam was different, lighter and more carefree even as a hunter. This Sam... this Sam was skittish, nervous. Struggling to get his hand free of the covers, Dean smiled. "Hold m'hand," he muttered.

“You’re the one who’s here, when you were just there. I mean, I should be asking if you’re okay.” Sam mumbled and slid his hand through Dean’s, lips twitching in a slight smile. He was resolutely not thinking about the bad signs Dean’s return presence brought with it. Lucifer, bringing Dean back, he was going to be back. Sam turned into Dean, running his nose over his skin. “Will you be here when I wake up?”

“Where’m I gonna go? You seem different,” Dean murmured against Sam’s cheek. Maybe it was paranoia, maybe he still half-believed he was going to wake up and find himself right back there in hell again.

Falling into silence, Sam frowned, considering what life had been like since Dean had left. It had been so cold, lonely, and empty. Sam had completely shut himself off and he hadn’t realized how bad that was until right now. “I might be a little insane,” he finally whispered, tilting toward Dean with wide eyes.

"Makes two of us." Dean shifted closer, groaned at the way his body resisted and pressed up against Sam. "Gonna take care of you now, Sammy. Soon as I can move." His fingers were restless on Sam's chest and eventually just tightened around a clump of t-shirt. Holding on tightly helped to push away the feeling that Sam might just disappear.

“S’okay. I’m okay,” Sam murmured. He wished he’d never said anything in the first place. He’d be okay; he and Dean would be okay now. “Get some sleep, I’ll be right here.” He slipped his arms under Dean, holding him against his chest. Sam didn’t think he’d sleep; he’d just stay here, keeping Dean safe and protected.

-=-=-=-

Like Sam had thought, he didn’t sleep. He figured maybe he should, but mostly he just stared at Dean, watched him breathe and stayed comforted thinking the demon was back in that body. Sam still didn’t completely believe it though, how was he supposed to make sense of it? Why would Lucifer bring Dean back without asking Sam for anything? And if Sam was really, truly, meant to be Lucifer’s vessel, was that the bigger picture?

When the sun had finally risen, Sam shifted up until he was sitting and spread his legs, gathering Dean up against his chest and holding him there. He wasn’t sure if Dean was awake but he spoke softly anyway, accustomed to speaking to Dean whenever he wanted. “I used to hold you like this; you were kind of like a weird rag doll.” He smiled softly, dipping down to kiss Dean’s hair.

Dean laughed softly. He was half awake, letting Sam's words drift over him. "Sounds like you," he whispered. Slipping his hand up and curling it around Sam's neck, he nestled closer. Now that he was awake for the second time, opening his eyes once more to find Sam _right_ there, it was easier to believe. "You really are real."

“I thought the same thing about you,” Sam whispered and half smiled down at him before dipping forward and gently kissing him. “Things have happened Dean. Just this, there’s stuff, and I...” He sighed and dropped his head down onto Dean’s. “It might be a bad thing, I mean, you being brought back breaks rules, but I’m so glad you are real.”

Frowning, Dean sat up a little, testing the muscles in his arms and his back. "Bad? What's bad?" He rubbed his thumb over his lip. It felt like a million years since he'd been kissed by Sam.

“Lucifer, he’s on earth, that’s bad.” Sam’s lips twitched in a smile and he shrugged. “And, and he said, these things. Don’t worry about it. Not now anyway. How are you feeling? Are you hungry? We could go get pancakes.”

“What did he say, Sam?” Dean blinked a few times. “Wait. You spoke to Lucifer?” Something dark and heavy started to swirl inside the pit of Dean’s stomach. “Sammy? What’s going on?”

“He was here, I told you, he brought you back.” Sam frowned and lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “He wasn’t _really_ here, it was a dream. He said he can’t find me; I’ve been real safe you know, with hex bags and all. I don’t think hex bags will stop Lucifer long though. Then he said, I’m his vessel.” The words felt heavy and thick on his tongue and Sam locked his gaze on Dean, stomach sinking. “His one true vessel.”

“You?” Everything shifted a little in the room. Dean sat up, back aching as his muscles protested. “You’re his vessel.” Naturally, questions flared to life in Dean’s mind. How did he know that Sam was, in fact, Sam? Why Sam? What was special about Sam being a vessel? “Fuck,” Dean whispered. “The blood.”

There was something he hadn’t experienced in hell, something he’d so far been spared and that was the feeling that somehow, he’d let Sam down. Now, he knew he had. “It was ... they set _both_ of us up. It was you all along; it had to be you, Sam.”

“Yeah.” Sam had reached the same conclusion some point last night as he thought and it made his heart sink, knowing that Dean had already realized it. “I won’t say yes. I won’t let him, you know? We just, we’ll fight him. We have to do it together, Dean. You can’t leave me again, okay? Cause I didn’t save you last time and I should have. So just, don’t go again.”

“Wasn’t up to you to save me, Sam.” Dean sighed. It wasn’t over, it would never be over. “I went there...” Dean was having trouble. All his memories felt too thin and wispy, like half-remembered dreams. “I went there to fight her, but she knew... she knew I wasn’t working for them anymore.” His eyes narrowed slightly as he winced at the remembered pain of being pulled from the body.

“What about Castiel? I made him promise... has he been with you, Sam?” Dean glanced up at his lover - _Fuck_ , were they still lovers?

“He was there at the end; he took us back to the motel and told me you weren’t there.” Sam frowned and ran his hand up through Dean’s hair. It was a little longer now, Sam had considered cutting it, but he liked the wisps he could wrap his fingers around. “Then I made him go away and said I didn’t want to be part of it anymore. If he’s tried to find me I don’t know. I’ve been hiding from them all. But I guess Lucifer doesn’t need that... probably time to find Castiel again.”

Shaking his head, Sam rolled them in one fluid movement and pinned Dean down to the bed. “Don’t want that though; Just want us to be us for a while. Can we?”

"Yeah." Dean frowned and pressed his hands against Sam's chest. It was a little too much, a little _too_ confining and he felt his heart beat start to thud. "Sam, gimme a little room."

“Oh,” Sam whispered and rolled off Dean and straightened up. He bit down uncertainly on his lip before running a hand up through his hair. “You probably need some food. I tried to nourish the body, but it was hard. There’s a diner down the street that has good food.” Sam shifted toward the edge of the bed, unsure like he’d never been with Dean. Or not for a long time at least.

"Not sure I'm ready for outside yet," Dean muttered. Scratching at his head with both hands, he turned and caught Sam still furtively glancing at him. "Sam? Come here." Holding out his hand, Dean waited.

“It’s okay,” Sam murmured and shifted back to Dean, squeezing his hand then releasing. “You... it had to be bad right? I don’t think I could picture it right, I mean, how could I know? You wanna talk about it?”

Dean’s smile wavered as he looked up at Sam. “No, Sam. I don’t want to talk about it. But I do want you to come back here.” He kept his hand held out even though it was trembling as he tried to hold up weak muscles.

“But you said you wanted room,” Sam whispered even as he shifted a little closer, smiling nervously at Dean. “Dean? I just want us to be okay. Can we be okay? I’ve been waiting so long and I knew you’d come back to me, you wouldn’t leave me, I knew it.” Sam’s voice was trailing off as he softly muttered the facts until his hand touched Dean’s and he looked up sharply, eyes watering. “I knew you’d come back so I took care of the body until you did.”

Dean's heart was breaking apart. "You did _real_ good, Sam. You did and you were right. You knew I'd come back." Smiling as warmly as he could, Dean curled his fingers around Sam's.

"I just meant. I can't. Don't hold me down, okay? Just for a while. Just be ... beside me?" Sucking in a breath, Dean tried to push the corners of his mouth up higher. "Sammy, we're okay. We're gonna be okay, I promise. I just need a little. Need some time." He watched as Sam's face fell slightly. "But you know what I need most? I need _you_ , Sam. Please." He tugged gently to pull Sam back to him on the bed.

“Okay.” Sam nodded and shifted back, sitting beside Dean without pressing too close. He watched him, unsure and nervous, gently touching Dean’s arm. “How does your body feel? I bet your muscles are too loose, can’t work those out. I might have hit your head on a few doors too.” Sam said it with a surprising lack of humor but he had to turn away to hide his smile.

Dean's heart lightened a little. "You did? That would explain a lot." Tucking under Sam's arm, Dean leaned into him. "You gotta touch me, Sam. Okay? A lot, keeps me here in... in now instead of..." Dean's voice trailed away and he leaned up to press his lips to Sam's. It felt a bit like the blind leading the blind, but in a way, it felt like Sam was far more lost than Dean had ever been.

“Okay, I’ll touch you, all the time.” Sam laughed softly, relieved by it. “Do you still love me?” Sam whispered, squeezing Dean softly then releasing. He closed his eyes, like keeping them open after a question like that was too much.

“Sam, I love you.” That was one thing Dean was absolutely certain of. Leaning back a little, he gazed up at Sam and waited until the man opened his eyes once more. “I love you, Sam Winchester.”

“I love you too.” The first real smile that Sam could recall having in god knows how long, and Dean was mostly smiling back at him. Sam’s heart clenched and he threw his arms around Dean’s shoulders. “God I love you so much, Dean. I’m so glad you’ve come back.”

Resisting the urge to pull back slightly, Dean slid his arms around Sam's waist and held on. "You've lost weight," he murmured into the man's neck. Sam still smelled the same, maybe more like the motel room than the outside, but still like Sam.

“So did you.” Sam murmured and pulled back a little, smiling apologetically at Dean. “I might have skipped some meals. Didn’t do much, read a lot though. Tried to find a way to pull you up.” Sam kept his hands on Dean, caressing his body in slow glides. “It’s gonna be a long road now, huh? We don’t get our happy ending.”

“I have no idea, Sam.” It was the best Dean could come up with. No matter what lay ahead. He had a feeling it was a long road.

Wetting his lips slowly, Sam looked over at Dean and shifted back, tugging Dean gently over him. “How long can we ignore the real world?” He murmured softly, stroking his hands down Dean’s sides, hoping that Dean being over him wouldn’t give him the same smothering feeling as before.

“I think we can get away with it for a little while, Sam.” Dean let himself relax down, let Sam take all of his weight and relaxed slowly. “Gonna hafta eat though.”

“I offered to go get food,” Sam pointed out, slowly rubbing his fingers down Dean’s back. “Tellin’ ya, freakin’ amazing pancakes.” It was a rush to have Dean on top of him like this and Sam closed his eyes, enjoying the pressure.

“Okay, Sam. Why don’t you go get some pancakes? I’ll just wait here. Something hot to drink? Maybe hot chocolate?” Dean smiled as he slid off Sam’s body and pressed up against his side. If he kept his eyes closed he could almost pretend things were alright.

“I don’t know if I should leave you,” Sam whispered and rolled on his side, facing Dean. “Will you be here when I get back? Will you be okay alone?” He’d gotten used to touching Dean however he wanted when Dean was not in there, Sam wasn’t sure if any touching was okay now.

Smiling softly, Dean reached up to smooth his fingers down Sam's cheek. "I'll be fine and I'll be here. I promise. C’mon, you’re always hungry, Sam. How long can it take to get a couple plates of pancakes made?"

“Okay.” Sam nodded and rolled away, sliding to the edge of the bed and pushing up. He couldn’t rationalize the fear that crept through him, the idea of Dean disappearing again, no matter what Dean said.

He was quiet as he dressed, but he could feel Dean’s eyes on him, watching. “That’s your stuff.” Sam pointed to a bag across the room before dropping them down to do up his pants. “If you feel up to showering or something.”

Dean watched how Sam’s motions were guarded, he was careful, deliberate and yet, somehow still nervous. It was almost like Sam expected something to happen any second, or just expected Dean to disappear. “Hey, what if I wait till you come back. We could eat - could you help me shower?”

“Okay.” Sam smiled over at him, grabbing his wallet from the table and slipping it into his pocket. “Do you need anything before I go? There’s hex bags a plenty in the room, you should be safe here.”

“Take one with you,” Dean said quickly. The last thing they needed while they were _both_ less than one hundred per cent was anyone finding them.

“I will.” Sam nodded and grabbed one of the extra bags from the table, holding it up between his fingers. “You can see the diner from the window. I mean, if you’re wondering and...” Sam looked over at Dean, small frown tugging at his lips. “It’s just, you left, you know? I didn’t get the chance to say sorry, to tell you that I love you and that I never thought you were forcing me. I said those things, I was scared and I just assumed I would make it better and I drove two days to get to that church, to get to you and to stop Lilith. Then it was just, too late, you know? So, that’s... that.” Sam shrugged and ran his hand up through his hair.

Smiling sadly, Dean nodded. “Sammy? We’re good, it’s good. I promise. You didn’t do anything wrong and I’m not going anywhere.” Leaning back against the pillows, Dean pulled the blanket back over his shoulders.

“Okay.” Sam nodded and headed for the motel door. “I was just saying.” He shrugged again and wet his lips, grabbing the doorknob. “See you in a few.” It felt uncomfortable leaving Dean behind, but Sam told himself it was just for a few minutes, that it would be okay. He glanced over his shoulder at Dean once before nodding again and disappearing outside.

As soon as Sam was gone, Dean found the silence in the room a little oppressive. Sitting back up, he coughed, it was too loud. Dropping his feet down to the floor, he tested his legs a little. Sam had gotten him up a couple of times to go to the bathroom since he’d taken out all the tubes, but Dean was really unsteady.

Pushing up to his feet slowly, he held on to the nightstand, then the wall as he moved over to the window. Sinking down into the chair quickly, he slid his fingers along the window and pushed the curtain back. Squinting, he looked up and down the parking lot; the light still hurt his eyes.

Leaning forward, he thought he could see a diner. Sam would be back soon. It was strange, but now that Sam was gone he felt the cool fingers of fear creeping up his spine. Shivering, he hugged his chest and stared up the street.

So much time spent alone, and not alone, tortured and soothed, only to be tortured again. Rocking back and forth slowly, Dean closed his eyes for a few moments. “Sam will be back soon,” he whispered.

He started counting in his head, listing things, anything to pass the time. In Hell, Dean had learned how to lose himself inside his mind.

When Sam opened the door to the motel his heart twisted, stomach churning as he stared at Dean. Sam didn’t think the demon realized he was rocking back and forth, humming softly, clearly pained by the thoughts running through his mind. Sam wet his lips slowly, uncertain. “Dean?” He finally whispered and shut the door of the motel, carrying the containers of food over to the table and setting them down.

As he knelt in front of Dean, Sam faced a slap in the face of reality. He had to get over the way he’d been falling apart since Dean had disappeared because right now and for a while Dean was going to need him. Sam wanted to be that for him, it was thrilling to be needed like that again. So he curled his hands over Dean’s thighs slowly and leaned forward. “Hey, you with me?”

Dean blinked, his eyes itching and sore. “Sam, you were gone a long... time.” Rubbing at his arms, Dean bit down on his bottom lip and managed to find Sam’s eyes. “S’cold.”

Sam didn’t want to point out to Dean that he’d been gone less than a half hour. Instead he pushed forward, rubbing his hands along Dean’s arms. “Sorry. I brought food though, nice and warm. Promise I’m not going anywhere any time soon, okay?” He smiled tentatively up at Dean, rubbing slowly along his neck.

Swallowing the fear that was welling up again, Dean nodded slowly. “Can I wear your shirt, the one I like?” He was shivering; the room felt warm enough but somehow, Dean felt frozen inside.

“Yeah, of course.” Sam nodded and pushed up to his feet, heading over to his bag to grab the shirt. He’d only worn it a couple of times since Dean had gone, the memory too strong to be ignored. Now he couldn’t wait to see it on Dean again and he pulled a chair over, sitting beside him and offering up the shirt. “Here you go.”

Taking the shirt, Dean rubbed the edge of it between his fingers. It was soft and smooth, the kind of cotton that was almost worn thin. Shaking his head, Dean laughed coldly. “Is it too early for beer? Lots of beer?”

Pushing up slowly to his feet, Dean balanced there for a few moments before letting go of the table and moving over to the bag Sam had kept for him. There was a pair of jeans in the top of the bag and Dean tried to get them on. “Sam? Help me? I think. I will feel better if I ... wait. Were we gonna shower or eat first?”

Standing there, jeans clutched in his hand, Dean looked over at Sam. _Help me, Sam_. So many times he’d screamed that and now he couldn't bring himself to say it aloud.

For a long moment Sam simply stared at Dean, wondering where his place was, what the best thing to do was. It was an odd thing to see him standing and moving around, maybe part of Sam had thought he’d always just be taking care of the virtually lifeless body. Then he realized it was just like that, sure he didn’t have to change IVs, but this was still just as important.

“How about we eat first?” Sam pushed up to his feet and headed over to Dean, sliding fingers down the back of his arm. “Since the food is warm. Then we shower? Nice, hot water. Then beer, I promise.” He dipped down and gently kissed the corner of Dean’s lips. “You could stay in boxers until then?”

Dean let out a small sigh of relief. “Okay, that’s. Yeah. Stepping into Sam’s side, he let the jeans drop back to the bag and breathed slowly against Sam’s chest. His fingers settled on Sam’s shirt, soft, the button warm, all things he never would have noticed before.

“I got your favorite,” Sam murmured and gently wrapped his arm around Dean, keeping it loose so Dean would still have space to move. “Wanna sit down? I could cut up the food and feed it to you.” Sam smiled down at Dean, dipping down to gently kiss him once more.

Dean looked up at Sam’s face, he needed to shave and there were dark circles under his eyes. “‘Cause you’re spoiling me? Or ‘cause I won’t be able to do it?” Dean was struggling to hang onto himself, hang on to _Sam_. “I feel like I’m on this train and ... and when I stop at a station the doors open and I get to see things the way they really are and then. Then the doors close again and it’s all fast and crazy.” Dean frowned and leaned harder against Sam.

“I know,” Sam murmured and wrapped his arms a little tighter around Dean though he wasn’t completely sure he did know. “It won’t always be that way Dean, I promise. I’m gonna ground you to the world, okay? You’re not going to that place again.” It was pretty much a lie, Sam wouldn’t be able to stop Dean from going to hell again at some point, but he would die before it happened. “Feel this?” He squeezed Dean softly and slid his nose through the demon’s hair. “This is real, I’m real, and that’s what matters now.”

"Okay," Dean mumbled. Sam could be the center of everything again, the cord that tied him to this world. Pressing his hand to Sam's chest, he felt that strong hunter's heart beating in the man's chest. Alive and well, Sam was alive and well so there was still some good left; there was something to stop Dean from giving in to the overwhelming exhaustion. "Can we eat in bed?"

“Yeah, definitely.” Sam smiled and guided Dean over to the bed. He didn’t need to help Dean as much as he did, but it seemed like neither were going to mind. He guided the demon over to the bed and helped him down, sliding across the mattress before turning to head back over to the table. “So, pancakes, bacon, eggs, anything you want.” He climbed onto the bed beside Dean, holding up the stack of cartons with a soft smile.

"You pick." Dean slid his legs under the top cover on the bed and moved a little closer to Sam. "Before, when I said I needed space. I mean, just like. Don't hold me down... don't stay away from me. Please." His eyes were on Sam's fingers as they opened the small cartons and laid things out on the mattress.

“Okay, won’t hold you down but I’ll stay close.” Sam flipped open the pancake carton, pulling open the other one to pile pieces of bacon and sausage on top. He shifted so he could tuck under the blanket beside Dean, pressing up against his side and holding out the food. He set it on Dean’s lap and reached out, pulling up a piece of bacon and holding it up to his lips. It was cheesy and romantic, but he didn’t care.

Smiling slightly, Dean opened his mouth and bit off some of the bacon. Salty and a little sweet, the flavor burst through his mouth. Chewing slowly, he savored it then swallowed. "You eat too."

Sinking down a little onto the pillows, Dean reached up and curled a strand of Sam's hair around his finger. Things were calmer inside of him again, a little more stable. "You okay?"

“Yeah, I am.” Sam nodded and shifted with Dean, popping the rest of the bacon piece into his mouth. “I just want you to be okay. So I’ll do everything I have to.” Sam grabbed another piece of bacon, knowing he didn’t need to tell Dean how much he clung to having a purpose, something to keep him going.

“We’ll get okay together. Sam? You know that. I mean... I’m different now.” Dean looked down at Sam’s hands; he’d always loved the man’s hands. Reaching out he brushed his fingers over Sam’s. “If you need to change things between us...”

“Change?” Sam frowned and placed another piece of bacon in Dean’s mouth. “How are you different? Well, I mean, okay I get the obvious things but... you’re a little broken Dean, I get that. I’m a little insane; we can try and fix each other. Or just be broken together.”

“I don’t think you understand, Sam.” Dean’s fingers were shaking and he pulled his hands back to tuck them under his arms.

“Then tell me, make me understand.” Sam shifted the food to the side, sensing an in that he’d been wondering about. “What happened? What’s changed? How was this different from... you know, before.”

“You won’t understand. You don’t need to know it.” Dean shook his head slowly. Sam was so far from what he’d seen and felt in Hell - so far and yet, a constant reminder. Dean had no idea how he was going to untangle all of the knots of good and bad, pain and pleasure.

“I do need to know.” Sam grabbed Dean’s wrist, holding him for a moment and releasing slowly to keep Dean from freaking out. “Dean, just tell me. I can handle it. And I can help you, or listen, or at least know what I’m dealing with.”

“What you’re _dealing_ with?” Dean’s eyes lifted to Sam’s. “I’m in this one alone.” Chest aching, Dean stared at Sam, trying to find that trust and certainty that he’d always see there before.

Hands lifting to frame Dean’s jaw, Sam held him there, keeping their gazes locked. “You aren’t Dean. You might think you are, but you don’t have to be. Look, I’m right here and I’m going to be. You can tell me absolutely anything.” His thumbs slid over Dean’s cheeks, leaning forward to gently brush their lips together. “Dean, there’s no point in having me around if you don’t share something so major with me.”

“What you wanna hear, Sam? You want to hear about how I screamed for you until my throat was so raw it bled? Alastair loved that. He said it was finer than an opera. An opera...” Dean looked down and tried to turn away, but Sam didn’t let go of his face.

“It was years, Sam. Years. There were so many new tortures this time, and I had been quite a disappointment.” Dean let his arms fall down to the bed and his fingers curled into the sheet. He blinked a few times and wet his lips. “Sometimes it was you, Sam.”

“Me?” Sam repeated quietly, confused. It dawned on him a moment later what he meant and his hands dropped, shoulders stiffening. “He- looked like me? When they did...” It made Sam a little sick to think about and he dropped his gaze, horrified that Dean had to go through that. “Jesus, Dean.”

“Sometimes, it was you who picked up the blade and sliced into me. You who poured salt into the wounds and holy water down my throat. And even then with...with fucking blood and water choking me I would just look up at your face and love you.” Dean slumped down into the bed and curled on his side.

“It went on so long, so many times you came and never once a smile, no touch that didn’t cause pain.” Dean could feel his lungs starting to ache as he tried to breathe slowly - _sulphur_ \- he could smell it everywhere like it was etched into his skin. Like a scent tattooed so deep in his flesh he would never be rid of it.

“Holy shit,” Sam whispered, afraid now to even reach out and touch Dean. It was easy to pull away, that would be the simplest thing in this situation. But it went against everything Sam had just said he would be to Dean and he shifted around, slowly sliding up against Dean’s back and wrapping an arm around him. “But you knew it wasn’t me, right? All those times you knew?”

“Most of the time,” Dean said softly. He’d be lying if he said he always knew. There were times when he was so desperate to be away from there, so desperate to be back with Sam that seeing the hunter’s face was about the only thing that kept him sane. Sliding his arm over Sam’s, he pressed hard and took a deep breath. “Most of the time I knew.”

Closing his eyes, Sam swallowed down the urge to pull away and pressed his lips to Dean’s hair. “I’m sorry Dean. That’s not... you shouldn’t have. Damnit. There’s no way to apologize for that. It’s shit, and I can’t imagine how it’s hurt you and I hate that they used me against you like that. But you know I wouldn’t do anything to you. I love you, and I don’t need changes. I just need you.”

“It’s not for you to apologize,” Dean said softly. His stomach was knotting as the small bites of food started to settle there. “That’s what Hell is, Sam. It’s different for everyone.”

“Okay,” Sam whispered and bit down on his lip, not moving away from Dean though he knew it wasn’t doing much good. “Doesn’t mean I can’t be sorry you had to go through that. Just like I can try and make it better for you.”

“I know. I just... s’gonna take time. So that’s what I meant. If you need to be somewhere else I get it. If you need to move on or ...” Dean’s fingers threaded through Sam’s. “I won’t go back there again. If they come for me, Sammy, you can’t let them take me back there. You gotta pull me or whatever you can do now.”

“What? Dean.” Sam sat up slowly, pulling Dean with him until the demon was half draped across his lap. “Okay, first of all I haven’t done anything since Lilith, haven’t even left your side. And I’m not going to leave your side, you know? Not ever, no moving on. If they come for you, then I’m gonna pull them way before I even think about pulling you.” Sam couldn’t imagine being responsible for Dean’s literal non-existence.

Dean was frozen for a moment, the sudden movement rattling him and then the heat of Sam’s body thawed him. His arm snaked up around Sam’s neck and he pulled himself up to crush his lips against Sam’s. It was poorly aimed, too rough, it hurt, but it was all Dean had to offer - the _way_ he could tell this was his Sam.

A surprised moan left Sam’s lips as he pushed into the kiss, hands sliding along Dean’s body. His heart tightened painfully, how long had it been since he last felt Dean’s lips really move against his? Sam’s fingers came up to move along Dean’s scalp and he pulled back softly, panting into his mouth. “Always gonna love you, okay?” He murmured before he dipped in to kiss him again, lips pressing just as hard back.

Dean's body hummed and tingled even as he ached. Sam's lips were salty-sweet and soft and it was the _home_ that he'd thought about and lived for. The sound that left Dean's mouth was a half-cry, half-moan and he shifted as close as he could before dragging his mouth away from Sam's so he could bury his face in his neck. "I love you, Sam."

Slowly wrapping his arms around Dean, Sam stroked a hand down his back, a small smile growing on his lips. “We’re gonna be okay,” he murmured and ran his nose through Dean’s hair, smiling a little brighter. It was the first time he said that and actually believed it, so it was a start at least.

An almost imperceptible nod was Dean's answer. He was _so_ tired - bone tired - not the kind of tired that made him sleepy. He could just curl up next to Sam and stay there forever. But ... that wasn't their life, it never had been. "Sam? You don't smell very good." Dean couldn't help laughing softly.

 _“Oh thanks.” Sam huffed and pushed Dean back slightly. “All the work I do, bring you breakfast, practically feed it to you and just...” Sam laughed and shook his head, rolling to the edge of the bed. “Come on; if you’re not gonna eat more we better get my stinky self in the shower.”_

 _Dean was a little slower, but he managed to get back up to his feet again and follow Sam into the small bathroom. As soon as Sam had the shower started, Dean found it a little easier to breathe; the hot moist air was soothing on his throat. Pulling Sam’s shirt back off, Dean folded it carefully and set it on the counter. “Don’t wear that, I’m putting it back on,” he said._

 _“Okay, Dean.” Sam smiled softly at him and dragged Dean across the small bathroom, pushing Dean’s boxers off. “This is much better than all the baths; do you know how hard it is to fit two people of our size in a bathtub?”_

 _“You bathed me?” Dean raised his eyebrows as he stepped out of his boxers. He dug his fingers hard into Sam’s shoulders, _Sam_ , solid and real._

“Of course I bathed you, it’s not like your body would just stay clean magically and you had to smell as close to you as possible at night time when we slept. Or... I slept, and you kept sleeping.” Sam shrugged and broke back long enough to slip out of his clothes before pulling Dean into the shower and under the spray.

The water was good, hot, stinging away the itch of anxiety on Dean’s skin. His fingers were still curled hard into Sam’s flesh, clinging, especially when he closed his eyes to let the water wash down over his face.

Tilting his head down, Sam watched Dean, curious and fond smile on his lips. “Dean,” he whispered and tilted his head up to gently press their lips together. Sam had no idea what the future held for them, but he felt a little bit better about it. And that was something at least.


	2. Chapter 2

Fingers taping along the table top, Sam glanced over at the bed then at the door, back to the bed and sighed. Dean was completely passed out and Sam didn’t blame him, with the nightmares he kept having, he’d hardly been getting any sleep. It seemed like Sam would feel Dean tossing and turning late into the night and finally after almost two weeks, he invested into some strong sleep medicine.

He didn’t offer it until almost three AM and now it was just after ten and there was no sign of Dean waking. Sam thought maybe all the sleepless nights were catching up to him. There was a gas station just on the other side of the motel parking lot and Sam was starving. He hated the idea of leaving Dean alone even for such a brief time, but if he didn’t eat something soon the demon was going to wake up from the way his stomach was growling.

Plus, he kind of needed the fresh air. Having Dean back was amazing, more than Sam planned, but it didn’t stop it from being just a little wearing. The nightmares that Sam could do nothing about, the times when Dean would sit and stare out the window for hours and no amount of Sam trying to pull him from his thoughts helped. Sam had never felt more useless in all his time with Dean.

So he slipped into his shoes and headed quickly outside, locking the door behind him and half jogging to the gas station. Packaged donuts weren’t exactly filling, but Sam could deal with that. He grabbed a few things for both himself and Dean, smiling wryly at the girl behind the cash register, and was just about to leave when he felt someone watching him. There was a moment of panic when he realized he’d forgotten a hex bag and Sam headed quickly out the door, ready to run back to the motel room.

Instead he ran straight into a familiar face, same trench coat and all. Sam’s eyes widened as he stepped back, admittedly a little impressed how quickly the angel had pinpointed him. “Uh, hey Castiel. Still doing the creepy random appearance thing, huh?”

“Where have you been, Sam? I promised your demon that I would watch over you and you’ve been hiding behind his wards. There are things we need to talk about.” Castiel’s brow furrowed slightly.

“You mean you’re actually upset for not keeping your promise to my demon?” Sam laughed softly at the irony in that and shook his head. “Alright, okay. It’s complicated. But we should go back to the motel room, I don’t want to leave Dean too long and if you found me this fast then anyone else could. Can’t take the risk.” Sam was already brushing past Castiel, heading across the lot in quick strides.

Castiel glanced around then disappeared only to reappear in front of the motel. As soon as Sam was close enough to hear him Castiel's brows furrowed again. "Lucifer has not been resting this entire time, Sam. And what is complicated about your motel room? Do you require assistance?"

“I know Lucifer hasn’t been resting, I’ve seen him. And it’s not my motel room, it’s...” Sam groaned and shook his head, pulling the key out to unlock the door and lead Castiel inside. He watched the Angel’s face as he took in Dean still asleep on the bed and waited, knowing it wouldn’t take long for him to figure out that the demon was back. “That’s what’s complicated.” He said quietly, shutting the door behind him and sighing. “Don’t suppose this can wait a little longer? Dean hasn’t been sleeping that well.”

“He’s been in Hell, Sam. I’m sure that Dean will suffer some lingering effects. It is ... timely that your demon has returned. Obviously you function better when he is around.” Castiel walked over to the bed slowly, tilting his head and brushing his fingers over Dean’s temple. When he turned back to Sam there was a hint of softness in his eyes. “He is strong.”

Sam didn’t like the look in Castiel’s eyes and he frowned, crossing the room and grabbing the angel to pull him over to the table. “I know he’s strong. I wasn’t complaining. I was just saying having you show up to lecture me about disappearing and Lucifer and being his vessel or whatever doesn’t really take priority over Dean in my book, okay?” Sam dropped Castiel’s arm and looked over at Dean. “And don’t touch him,” he muttered, annoyed at the bite of jealousy still crawling through him.

“I was trying to see if I could help him, but he’s fighting his own battle.” Castiel looked up at Sam. “I wasn’t attempting to lecture you. You just don’t seem to understand the significance of Lucifer’s appearance. The signs have begun, Sam. The apocalypse is coming. My brothers and sisters are divided. We need to find a way to stop Lucifer, return him to his cage.”

“No, I don’t think you understand, Castiel.” Sam turned to the angel, his eyes narrowing. There was a mental warning to stay quiet for Dean’s sake, but Sam’s voice still came out too loud. “I don’t fucking care. I’m sorry you’re having family issues, I’m sorry I got tricked into letting Lucifer out and fucked everything up, but I’m not playing this game. I’m not an angel or a demon or anyone special, just a guy who happens to be thrown in the middle of this shit storm.”

Sam inhaled sharply and pointed at Castiel, the air rushing into his lungs and causing his body to shake. He wasn’t even sure where all the words were coming from, but he couldn’t seem to stop them. “I’m not going to be a pawn, or a vessel, or the go between for halos and horns. I’m gonna take Dean and we’re gonna disappear and that’s it. If the world gets fucked in the process then I’ll fight until I die, but I deserve a little fucking happiness for _once_ in my life and it’s not gonna happen if you throw all this at me. You got it?”

There were tears burning in Sam’s eyes, but he kept his gaze locked on Castiel, clenching his jaw to show how serious he was. There was a shake to his body and it was rapidly growing, but he fought against it, just long enough to make his message clear.

Sam's voice jolted Dean from his sleep and he rolled quickly toward the edge of the bed. Unfortunately, he recognized the broad shoulders the trench coat was draped over. "Cas," Dean said softly, "'member that talk we had about ... humans?"

Castiel dragged his gaze slowly away from Sam and nodded once at Dean.

"Now, would be a good time for you to give us some space. We'll lose the hex bag again tomorrow and you can find us." Dean stood up and walked slowly over to the angel, patting him on the back gently.

"Very well, Dean."

The whoosh of wings tousled Sam's hair and Dean closed the distance between them. "Sammy?"

“Oh great, so now you’re all buddy buddy?” Sam huffed and rolled his shoulders back, stepping toward the table where the discarded food was. He wasn’t even hungry now, seemed to be happening a lot to him. “What is it? Some Romeo and Juliet complex? The angel and the demon, the ultimate lover’s cliché, drawn together during a time of war and finding undying passion despite all your differences.” Sam’s voice trailed off to a quiet, low mutter as he tore open a package of powder donuts and picked it apart.

"Undying passion? Sam, it was before I left to find Lilith. Cas and I had one talk and it was because I was worried about what would happen to you if I didn't come back. Sam?" Dean could see the tension in Sam's shoulders, the subtle shake. "Sammy? You good?"

“One talk? In which you made him promise things and somehow you learned to speak on a higher level about we lesser _humans_ and our supposed, whatever.” Sam slammed the donut hard onto the table, causing a puff of white powder to float up around his fingers. “Forget it. I don’t care. I was gone five minutes, tops, and he just shows up saying all this stupid stuff. You’re supposed to hate him, you’re supposed to take my side and tell me I don’t have to fight in this stupid battle I have no power in.”

"And if you _and_ I don't fight this - how the _fuck_ do we have all that shit you promised me? Huh? Tell me that Sam. If the world is falling apart around us, how do I get to have you and a life - and a couch that is brand new out of a store that I'll probably hate? And the fucking stupid dog."

Dean stepped closer, knowing Sam was on the edge. "You listen to me Sam. You are _not_ alone in this... and I know you don't mean that you're just gonna walk away from this. I also know it's okay to be as scared as fuck about this. You think ... you think I don't know about scared?"

Finally seeing Sam's shaking increase, Dean slipped his fingers around Sam's wrist. "You can fall apart, Sammy. If that's what you need to do right now? Then you do it. But I want what you promised me. You said we could do it. You said I could have a life after this."

“Why does it have to be me?” Sam shook his head roughly and tensed his shoulders, knowing despite what Dean said that falling apart now was likely ridiculous. “My whole life, all it’s been is shit, all I get is one shit thing after another and I’m so _tired_ of it. I finally got you back, you’re mine now and I waited so long for you. Why can we just go be happy? Why did I have to be the one in the middle of all of this?” Sam finally looked up to meet Dean’s eyes, his own glistening with shiny wet tears threatening to spill over.

"I know, Sammy." Dean didn't have a hell of a lot more to offer. Sam was absolutely right, it wasn't fair. It was the easiest thing in the world to slide his arms around Sam's neck, fingers moving in the soft hair at the man's nape. "We take a little time, we get ourselves okay - you _and_ me. But you promised me, Sam. It's what kept me alive all that time. You promised me a home and you and a stupid dog. I really want that dog."

Straining up slightly, Dean pressed his lips to Sam’s and then ran the tip of his nose through one of the tears that had finally slid down Sam’s cheek.

“You’re always going on about that dog,” Sam muttered but there was just the faintest little smile on his lips. Sighing softly, Sam wrapped his arms around Dean and pulled him in closer. “I know you’re right. I can’t just give up on all this. Wish I could, but all those people.” And maybe Sam felt a little responsible for all this, even if he’d been tricked it was his fault that Lucifer was now on Earth and all those things he’d seen on TV.

“Sorry, I know better than to act this way, I’ve been trained against it.” Sam pulled Dean over to the bed and dropped down, tugging Dean with him. “Guess that means we’ve got to let your new BFF come find us again.”

“My BFF? Fuck, he barely tolerates me because I’m - well, because he knows you love me.” Dean felt his cheeks warm slightly. Pulling one leg up on to the bed, he slid it behind Sam and shifted closer, pressing up close against his side. “I told him tomorrow.” Dean’s nerves were rattling slightly.

Things had been getting better and better between them, but Dean still found himself a little on edge when they were close together. He was fighting so many memories.

Closing his eyes, Dean slid his palm across Sam’s chest. “You and me right? We can do anything.”

“Well quite clearly we’re better together. The alone thing never seems to work well for us.” Sam leaned into Dean’s touch and closed his eyes, sighing softly. He had shaken most of the fear, the annoyance at being the center of all of this, but some of it was still lingering there. And Sam had this feeling he’d be dealing with that ache for as long as this pre-apocalypse thing was going on.

“Can we even send Lucifer back to hell? It’s not like he can really be killed, right? And the only way I was able to pull Lilith was by draining an entire demon and seeing you knocked out on the floor. Can’t imagine what it would take to get me the strength to pull Lucifer.”

Sam inhaled shakily, a little more than freaked out at the idea of going after Lucifer. There was no way he’d win; Lucifer would kill him, what good could Sam do?

“Cas can help. We’ll come up with something. It’s heaven and hell right? I mean, there must be ways to do these things - seems to me.” Dean dropped his gaze and then looked up at Sam from under his lashes. “We can get you strong again, like you’ve been helping me to get better. _Right?_ ” Licking his bottom lip, Dean nudged his fingers under Sam’s collar.

“Yeah, okay.” Sam smiled briefly over at Dean and shrugged. “Heaven and Hell, how did it all come to this?” Shifting closer, Sam kissed along Dean’s jaw, running over his skin and up to his lips, slowly pressing in deeper. It had been so long, Sam still hadn’t really placed the time line, and he’d been so careful with Dean since he came back, not wanting to freak him out. But Sam’s body was seeking the heat of Dean’s and he half slid over him, pressing him down into the mattress as he kissed him deeper and harder.

Dean's focus was torn. Having Sam that close to him, feeling the heat of his body was _so_ tempting. But there was that cold flare of fear that made him shudder and pull away. Laughing nervously, Dean shifted to the side a little, out from under Sam's weight. "Sam..."

He held on, tangling his fingers in Sam's hair, Dean kept him close. "I ... slow."

Sighing softly, Sam dropped his gaze and nodded, pushing back from Dean and wincing at the tug of his hair. “I know, sorry. I just miss you is all.” Sam half shrugged and looked up at Dean, wry smile pulling at his lips. “You sleep okay? That medicine kind of knocked you out.”

"Sam? I didn't say no, I said slow." Dean swallowed around the lump in his throat and shifted closer. Hooking a leg over Sam's hip, Dean let out a shuddering sigh and shifted closer. "Sam. I want-" Dean moaned and dragged his lips down Sam's neck, fingers gripping Sam's hair.

“Are you sure?” Sam tipped his head back at Dean’s pull, fingers sliding down Dean’s side. “Don’t wanna rush you.” Sam’s hands were already slipping under Dean’s shirt, running over his skin and he couldn’t really help it, he’d been itching for Dean’s skin for so long now it was almost painful.

“God I want you Dean,” he murmured and dug his fingers into Dean’s thighs, sliding up until his thumb was rubbing over the hardening length in Dean’s boxers.

Dean's mouth fell open, a soft sigh escaping and he panted against Sam's neck. Just like that he was rocking forward against Sam's touch and _wanting_. Needing Sam pushed everything else aside and Dean arched into the heat of Sam's body. His hands moved restlessly from Sam's hair to push at the bottom of his t-shirt to get it off - get to _Sam_.

It took the rest of his concentration to keep from rolling Dean over and taking him. He didn’t want Dean to feel anything but pleasure now. “Dean,” he moaned softly and slid back, pulling his shirt off and tossing it to the side before grabbing Dean’s and pulling it off just as swiftly. His legs were squirming, kicking out of his shoes and socks. “What do you want?” His hand slid along Dean’s boxers once more, cupping him through the fabric and rubbing slowly.

What Dean wanted was everything back the way it was, the way he and Sam just knew _everything_ about each other. Closing his eyes, Dean bit down on his bottom lip to stifle the moan that Sam's rubbing drew out of him. Rolling slowly in his lover's arms, Dean pressed back against Sam' body. "Want you," he rasped. Arching his back, he pressed the curve of his ass back against Sam, against the hard line in the man's jeans.

“God, yes.” Sam groaned and rocked his body up, desperately seeking more heat and friction. “Dean,” he moaned and pulled back, half tossing Dean down onto the bed and straightening up so he could push at his jeans and kick gratefully out of his clothing. He pulled at Dean’s boxers, sliding them off his legs and tossing them to the side.

Dropping back on the bed, Sam fell onto his back and grabbed Dean’s arm, dragging him over his body and spreading his legs so Dean could fall between. “Tell me if it’s too much?”

Trembling with anticipation, Dean let himself melt down against Sam's body. As soon as the flesh of their cocks slid together, hot and smooth, Dean let out a small sound of pleasure and caught Sam's bottom lip between his teeth. Tugging gently, he rocked forward and the long-missed sensation sent an immediate fire racing through Dean's veins.

Moaning into the kiss, Sam rocked his body hard up against Dean’s, muscles tense from the pleasure that already felt like too much. It was like he didn’t know how to handle feeling so good when he’d been dealing with so much crap for far too long. He pressed harder into the kiss, thrusting his tongue hard forward into Dean’s mouth to constantly search for more pleasure, more of that sparking and addictive heat. Their cocks continued to slide together and Sam’s eyes clenched shut tightly, focusing in on the maddening thrill of it.

Dean felt like it might never be enough; the way Sam was touching him, the way their bodies were sliding together. Pushing himself up slightly, Dean straddled Sam's hips and slid his ass slowly along the line of Sam's hard flesh. "Sam, I need more."

There were so many things Dean couldn't say. He couldn't say how he wanted Sam inside him, how he wanted Sam to fuck him and chase away all his fears and hesitations. Even while he was rolling his hips in a slow circle he could feel the heat of pleasure building up inside him, pressure and want all swirling together.

“God, yes.” Sam groaned and rolled Dean off him, kissing him for another long moment before pulling back and sliding to the edge of the bed. He stared down at Dean for a long moment, watching the flush of pleasure crawling across his lover’s features, the way his face seemed only marked in pleasure. It was amazing to see.

Heading across the room, Sam dipped down to grab the bottle of lube he hadn’t bothered touching since Dean had gone. Now his fingers were nearly shaking as he hurried quickly back across the room and dropped down beside Dean, pressing on his side to lean over and gently pressing kisses over Dean’s ribs. “You feel so good,” Sam murmured and ran his hand down, brushing fingers over the demon’s red swollen cock.

Dean's body moved up instantly into the touches, his blood thumping faster and harder in his chest. "Missed you, Sam. Missed this, I mean." His brain was already feeling clouded by lust, his skin tingling with pleasure. Tangling his fingers back in Sam’s hair, Dean pushed his hips up off the bed, body moving in waves as Sam’s lips moved over his skin.

“Me too,” Sam whispered and flicked the bottle of lube open, shifting closer to rub along Dean’s body. He couldn’t wait to feel Dean’s body once more, tight and pressing around him. Sam panted open mouthed against Dean’s chest, slowly circling his finger low on his lover’s body, just barely breaching his muscles. “After you were gone, I used to have these dreams about you coming back in the middle of the night and waking me up by taking me. Used to drive me crazy.”

Hearing Sam say that nearly drove _Dean_ crazy. Spreading his legs wider, Dean shifted and writhed slightly. He cupped the back of Sam's head, gentle moving his fingers in the silken locks of hair. The sensations were pouring over him, lips, warm moist breath and the gentle press of Sam's finger. Licking his lips, Dean smiled softly and let his head fall back. "I ... you were all I thought about," he whispered.

“Me too.” Sam nodded and slid his finger all the way up in Dean, gently stretching in slow moving circles before adding a second. Part of him didn’t want to be so patient, he wanted to take Dean hard and fast and rough like he used to not that long ago - no matter how much it felt like a whole life time before. Sam moaned against Dean’s chest and shifted up, arm stretching down so his lips could crush hard against Dean’s once more. His fingers constantly moving, stretching and pressing to drive Dean as insane as he could.

Dean pushed up into the kiss, lips urgent and rough against Sam's. And when he sensed the urge in Sam for more, maybe for things to be a little faster, Dean rocked his ass down on Sam's fingers, pushing them deep inside. His tongue thrust forward into Sam's mouth, the heat of it completely _right_. Their kisses were slick, building in intensity and Dean let his nails drag down the sweat-slick skin of Sam's back.

When Sam couldn’t take any more and Dean’s body was in constant motion, Sam pulled his fingers free with a gasp, grabbing Dean’s arm and rolling them once more. “You on top,” he murmured, knowing he’d get carried away and hold Dean down for too long if he were pressing his lover down into the mattress. His fingers ran slick along his cock, chest rising and falling with shaky breaths as he rolled up into Dean’s body, desperate to be inside him once more.

Knees squeezing hard against Sam's sides, Dean rocked forward to reach for Sam's lips. He could feel the urgent press of Sam's cock, the way his lover's body was twisting beneath him. Reaching back, Dean's fingers pressed Sam's cock forward until the head of it just breached his tight ring of muscle. "Sam," he hissed.

Sinking back down onto Sam's flesh burned and Dean had never been so turned on by any kind of feeling. _His_ Sam, right there under him, arching his spine and pressing up, shaking as he tried to hold himself back. "Let go, Sam," Dean panted. He sank back, taking Sam deep within him and moaning as he fell forward.

It was kind of like coming to life all over again and Sam felt stupid for thinking something so cheesy about _sex_ , but god he hadn’t even realized how _human_ being with Dean made him feel. When everything else in his felt like it was spinning out of control, Dean had come in and become some sort of anchor he’d been clinging too. Now his hands pressed hard against Dean’s back and he kissed him roughly as his body moved forward.

Muscles clenched tight around him, but Sam thrust through it, hips snapping hard up into Dean’s body and pulling back. He already felt overheated and sticky with sweat, the strain on his muscles different from the usual he’d been dealing with, but perfect none-the-less. His body moved in constant waves up into Dean, driving harder forward and pulling back, one quick thrust after another.

Sam's thrusts jolted Dean's body to the core. He could already feel the pressure building in his body - pressure to release. Wrapping his fingers around the velvet smooth flesh of his cock, Dean stroked in time with Sam's rocking hips. It was all coming together, the sounds, the feel of Sam's hands gripping him so tightly, the burning heat of Sam's cock buried so deep inside him. Falling forward, Dean writhed against Sam's flesh. He just kept moving, sliding that heat in and out of his tight ring of muscles.

His mouth moved along Sam's neck, teeth grazing the flesh and Sam hips snapped up _hard_. Sucking in a breath, Dean pushed back and moaned then bit down hard on his bottom lip. The coppery taste of his blood teased at his tongue and Dean's eyes widened, then he did something he hadn’t _let_ himself do since he'd returned to Sam. His eyes darkened and he sank back down to push his blood forward into Sam’s mouth.

The first taste of blood in their kiss had Sam gasping. His body jolted forward and his arms wrapped vice tight around Dean, tongue sliding forward to chase the sparking bitter taste. He moaned against Dean’s mouth, heels digging into the mattress to drive himself harder and faster deep into Dean’s body.

Tearing back from the kiss, Sam stared bleary eyed up at Dean, losing himself in the dark eyes belonging to the demon. “I missed you.” He whispered though they both knew he was maybe talking about something on a higher level. His thumb brushed along the edge of Dean’s eyes for a long moment before he was dragging him down once more and crushing their lips together once more and thrusting hard up into Dean’s body.

Dean could only moan, rocking back to meet each of Sam's sharp thrusts. The kiss was rough, Sam's lips grinding hard against Dean's. It hurt and it was the most amazing feeling, the single most important sensation. Shuddering, Dean lurched back as Sam’s cock slid past his prostate. Shocks of pleasure darted through his body and the air caught in his lungs. "Sam, fuck..."

Everything kind of spun out of control. Dean's balls drew up hard and tight, his cock aching and the burning pleasure of his orgasm ripped through his body. Collapsing against Sam's body, Dean lay there, twitching as his release pulsed out hot and slick between their bodies.

The tightening of Dean’s muscles around him was maddening and Sam groaned, rocking his body up and staying buried hard up in him as pleasure rippled through his body. His orgasm tore harsh and blinding through him, lips forming a soft _O_ as he rode out the sensation. His hands moved constantly along Dean’s body, holding him as close as he dared.

When his hips were finally sinking back onto the mattress, Sam’s chest was almost aching from the lack of oxygen. “God,” he moaned softly, lips running along Dean’s cheek, down to his jaw. “You’re amazing.”

Dean's body was limp, his muscles aching and weak as he tried to look up at Sam. Whimpering softly, he sucked gently at the sweaty skin just under Sam's jaw. After a few deep breaths he eased himself off Sam's cock and simply lay there, soaking up the warmth and comfort of his _lover's_ arms. He'd missed it, the feeling that he was safe from everything when Sam held him.

With soft strokes Sam caressed every inch of Dean’s shoulders, down his arm, massaging his ass slowly. He loved this, when it felt like Dean had given himself over completely and he and Dean were completely connected. “I love you,” Sam whispered and ran his lips through Dean’s hair, sighing softly. He felt better than he had in a long time and Sam found himself smiling up at the ceiling.

"Does this mean you're gonna help me get my stupid dog now?" Dean smiled against Sam's skin and then turned to press a trail of open mouth kisses along his chest.

“Yeah, I’ll help you get your stupid dog.” Sam laughed and closed his eyes, relaxing down onto the mattress. “Gotta save the world first though. And deal with this angel that has no sense of humor and maybe lacks personal boundary knowledge.”

"He knows what boundaries are, just doesn't use 'em." Dean shifted slightly, wondering if Sam could breathe. "You need me to move?"

“No. Don’t,” Sam said maybe a little too quickly and wrapped his arms tighter around Dean. He loosened them after a moment, but didn’t pull away. “Like you here.”

“So, we’re okay, right? We can do this?” Dean nestled in as close as he could, slipping his hands under Sam’s body.

“We gotta,” Sam whispered and closed his eyes, shifting around until he could drag a blanket over the both of them. “Tomorrow we’ll do this, let’s just have today for us.”

“Maybe a German Shepherd,” Dean whispered sleepily.

“Probably a mini-toy poodle.” Sam laughed softly, not bothering to move Dean from his body.

“Dude, I’m a demon. I have a reputation to keep up.” Dean laughed quietly. Tomorrow they could fix things.

-=-=-=-

The moment Dean set a match to the last of the hex bags, Castiel appeared. Somehow, that just didn't surprise him anymore.

"I've been waiting. Whatever was it that the two of you needed so much time for?" Castiel's jacket was still swaying when Dean turned around.

"Well," Dean chuckled. "Let's see, we had to eat and sleep - but you see, ever since I came back from hell we hadn't fu-"

“Dean.” Sam shot a look over at the demon, eyes narrowing. No matter how much the angel annoyed him sometimes, Sam couldn’t get over the idea of talking about sex in front of him. “We needed time to ourselves Castiel, that’s gonna happen, you’ll have to accept it.”

Castiel's gaze moved slowly from Dean to Sam and then back. "You ... look better, Dean."

Lifting his eyebrows slightly, Dean starting putting a new hex bag together. "Well, like I was _trying_ to say. Got me some, feelin' a bit more optimistic."

"Some of what?" Castiel paced over to Dean and watched as he was adding items to the hex bag.

Groaning softly, Sam rubbed the heel of his palm into his hand and tried to resist muttering _Jesus Christ, my life._ “Can we just get on with it? What do you need, Castiel? I have plans for important things later on today.” Sam leaned over, grabbed a bag of the extra ingredients for the hex bag and brought it over to Dean, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"I have found a way to stop Lucifer. A way to put him back where you released him from." Castiel's expression darkened slightly.

When he glanced up at the angel, Dean shook his head slightly. "Wow, that just doesn't even _sound_ good. What does it involve?" His fingers moved with practiced ease to tie off the first hex bag.

"It's complicated. The ritual is very detailed and I'm working on deciphering it. I do know that it requires the blood of a human, a demon and an angel." Castiel looked up at Sam and his eyes narrowed. "I'm no longer sure you're of any help with that."

Something cold ran down Sam’s spine and he stared at the angel for a long moment, his heart clenching painful at even the suggestion. It was one of those fears he’d been running from for months, longer, since this whole thing started. Though Sam wasn’t going to simply accept it because that idea was terrifying. “Excuse me?”

Taking a step closer, Castiel looked up into Sam's face. "You seem different now. The blood is changing you." Pressing his lips together as though to end the conversation, the angel turned back to Dean. "We need to translate the entire ritual first; I'll find the needed items.

Glancing up at Sam, Dean smiled softly and reached up to squeeze Sam’s hand. “And what do we do while you’re doing that?” Dean could feel the tension practically oozing off Sam. He’d spent enough time with Sam, loved him enough to know that _changing_ was one of Sam’s biggest fears.

“Why does it matter? Clearly he doesn’t need me as part of this, he can just go get his own demon and a _human_.” Sam turned away from them, pacing across the room to get his guns, something to clean and keep his hands busy. He hated how childish the words made him sound but it seemed like an angel would know something like that. “Why did you even bother coming, Castiel? Don’t you have other feathered friends to share the apocalypse gossip with?”

"You know, Cas? You say stupid shit sometimes," Dean hissed. "Sam, it's not like that. I'm sure - you know Cas, he's kind of an idiot when it comes to how to say things." Dean was having trouble processing the fact that he was actually standing up for an angel.

"Sam, I said I was no longer sure. Of course you would be my first choice, and I highly doubt I can find my own demon." Frowning, Castiel stepped back slightly.

“Jesus, do you two want a room or something?” Sam snapped, stopping after a moment and looking over at Dean. “That was stupid, ignore that.” Shaking his head, Sam turned to Castiel and forced himself to calm down enough to not snap at the angel. “How can you not be sure? I’m human, I always have been. I did... those things, the blood and everything, because I thought it was right. I thought I was helping.”

"It's difficult to describe the way I perceive things to someone with limited senses. You're different, Sam. I am fully aware of why you made the decisions that you did." Castiel’s expression softened slightly. "I'm not judging you; I was simply stating a fact. You _are_ human, Sam; I just don't know if you're human enough for the ritual."

Dean rolled his eyes and put another finished hex bag down on the table. Shoving at Castiel's arm, pointlessly because the angel was as solid on his feet as a rock, Dean headed over to where Sam was struggling to pull the shot gun apart. Taking the gun from Sam's hands, Dean lay it back down on the dresser and then slid his palm over the small of Sam’s back. "It's just words, Sam, right? Look at me."

“It’s not just words, Dean.” Sam met Dean’s gaze and had to immediately look away, that same sickening ache in his heart intensifying. “He’s an angel, he _perceives_ things. And we both know he’s not making this shit up.” Shifting uncertainly in place, Sam looked over at Castiel then back at the floor. “Is that why Lucifer could find me in my dreams? He’s come to be, more than once, he says... is that why? Because I’m not even human anymore?” God, Sam couldn’t begin to grasp the idea.

"Sam, you _are_ human." Dean glared over at Castiel.

"You are human, Sam. But even you must realize that the blood is changing you. And no, Lucifer is able to find you because of the bond you share. You're his true vessel, Sam; the one _human_ capable of containing his form.

“See,” Dean muttered. The way Sam’s back felt under his palm, tense, stiff was making Dean nervous.

“Oh yeah, that’s _way_ better. I’m human but apparently supposed to be bunk mates with Lucifer. Awesome.” Sam groaned and slid his hand up through his hair, dropping it heavily a moment later and turning to Dean. “What happens if I always say no? He can’t do anything really bad if he’s not in his true vessel right?”

"He can't occupy your body if you say no. You're right. Like all angels he requires permission. But Sam, the apocalypse has begun; we are seeing signs of it already. Lucifer will be able to exist in his current vessel for quite some time." Castiel moved closer to the other two men. "Will you help me, Sam?"

Dean rubbed Sam’s back and looked up at him.

“I don’t think I have much a choice in the matter,” Sam murmured and forced himself to look at Castiel. It was like everything else in his life, complicated and rarely by choice. Except Dean, who was certainly complicated, but Sam needed him there; he’d fallen apart without him. “I’ll do whatever I can. As long as Dean is there every step of the way.”

Smiling slightly, Dean leaned a little closer. "Where else am I gonna be? You're _my_ human, not his." Dean nodded toward Castiel but kept his eyes on Sam.

"Technically, Sam doesn't belong to either of us," Castiel said.

“No, if I belong to anyone it’s Dean.” Sam corrected and stooped down to kiss Dean softly, grinning into the touch of their mouths before pulling back and looking at Castiel. “Are you bummed you don’t have your own human?”

“Bummed?” Castiel frowned again.

“Cas, let it go. You’ll never figure it out. Now, go find this... stuff. Translate your whatever and I guess me and my human will be... hunting.” Dean shrugged and slipped his fingers into Sam’s back pocket.

“I don’t suppose you can offer any hints as to where the next big bad is gonna happen?” Sam stepped a little closer to Dean, gathering up his warmth to ease the lingering ache in his chest.

"Oddly enough, Lawrence, Kansas." Castiel disappeared, leaving behind him only a swirl of moving air.

Blinking rapidly, Dean turned into Sam's shoulder. "I hate when he does that."

“Lawrence,” Sam whispered and bit down on his lip, torn between demanding they leave for the town right then and the desire to turn and run for it. “I was born there, you know. Was supposed to be my home.” Sam wanted to think it was coincidence, but it seemed unlikely.

“Well, I guess it’s time to show me around your old home town then.” Dean’s fingers shoved further down into Sam’s pocket. There was obviously a connection, Dean just found himself wishing that Castiel had stuck around long enough to explain a little bit about what they might expect to find there.

“I was just a baby,” Sam pointed out and pressed into Dean, back him up slowly until the wall was hitting his back. “I don’t want to know why Lucifer chose there. I don’t want to find out he’s calling out to me. Just want to save however many people we can and get the hell out of there. Okay?” Sam’s hands pressed into the wall on either side of Dean and he dipped down, sliding parted lips over Dean’s neck. He couldn’t help wanting the distraction after all.

“Okay,” Dean whispered. His fingers hooked over Sam’s front pockets and pulled him closer. He had a feeling it would be a little while before they were on the road.

-=-=-=-

Something large and heavy was flying toward him and Sam ducked, rolling along the floor and behind a large pile of debris. His eyes shot over to Dean, watching him lunge forward and drive a knife hard into the demon’s body. There was a flare of pride rushing through Sam and he half smiled before focusing on the fight once more.

They’d showed up in Lawrence to find it swarming with demons, like Lucifer had opened some gate and let the demons come and take over everyone. It was a little sickening really, the way his home town was completely trashed as a result of these demons. Mayhem on earth must have been Lucifer’s ultimate plan. Sam didn’t get it and that was almost a relief.

“Dean!” Sam shouted as two demons came up behind him, trying to get the blade that Dean was carrying.

“Damnit.” Sam hissed the curse and ran forward, knocking hard into both demons just as their hands were grabbing at Dean’s clothing.

Dean swung his arm back, slashing at the Demon closest to him and seeing the skin light up as the blade drew across the woman’s forearm. Another demon was latched on to the back of Dean’s neck and his eyes flew over to Sam as the hunter dashed across the room. “Sam!”

Something burned in Sam, the idea of Dean being in danger, the trouble his lover’s life could be in. “I’m coming, Dean!” Sam hollered back and ran across the room, grabbing the demon latched to him and throwing him as hard as he could. Considering the demon got up right away, Sam was starting to question his strength. “We gotta get out of here.” He called over his shoulder, bracing himself for the demon’s next attack.

“Sam, pull him. You can do it.” Dean rolled to his feet and flipped the knife back around in his hand. “Sam, come on.” Reaching back he waited until Sam stepped forward, he could see the hesitancy in the hunter’s step.

His eyes flicked back to the demon who was groaning and struggling back to his feet. Dean dropped down, widened his stance and blocked Sam. “Sam now!”

Sam hadn’t pulled anyone since the whole Lucifer rising thing and he didn’t even think he was strong enough to do it now. After all, he’d only drank a little of Dean’s blood over the last few days and it didn’t feel like enough. Shoulders tensing, Sam took a deep breath and tried to focus his attention on the demon, but he didn’t feel anything coming. “I can’t Dean, I haven’t even tried in months.”

The demon was already shaking his head, pacing closer to Sam and Dean. “Sammy? You can do this.” Dean backed up until he was pressed back against Sam. “We can, you focus. Breathe.”

Holding the dagger out at the ready, Dean kept his gaze focused on the approaching demon and watched out of the corner of his eye as Sam’s trembling hand raised up.

Sam had forgotten how the rush of energy felt pulsing through him. But the moment he felt it, Sam grasped on and forced his attention to surge forward. Black smoke trickled out of the demon’s mouth, dribbling down onto the floor and vanishing. It was a dizzying rush and Sam felt the flare of power moments before he heard the half scream from a demon to the side.

Spinning, Sam slid a hand across Dean’s chest and pushed him back, free hand already extended to the oncoming demon. It was almost shocking how easy it was, Sam could feel the energy soaring through him as the black smoke trickled out of the demon before them. Sam’s shoulders were shaking as he turned to the next oncoming demon, pulling him faster and swifter.

The other demons had apparently seen what Sam was up to and their forward rushing began to slow. Sam pulled two more before they were turning and fleeing altogether. There was a damp sweat on his brow, he felt the trickle of something dripping out of his nose - presumably blood - and every part of him was shaking, but it wasn’t exhaustion. It was crystal sharp power and adrenaline like he’d never felt before.

When it was clear the demons weren’t coming back any time soon, Sam turned to Dean, panting and eyes wide. A slow smile curved along his lips and it felt a little like sparks were dancing along his fingertips when he closed them into fists. “Think I just saved our asses.”

Blinking slowly, Dean blew out a breath. He was a little shocked by how much Sam had been able to do. Sure, Sam’s _strength_ had been growing, but it had been a long time since he’d had enough blood to make such an improvement. “Was good, Sammy,” he mumbled.

Just like that the rush of power and energy seeped out of Sam. It was the look on Dean’s face, the shock and... fear? Like a punch in the gut Sam realized what he’d done had to have been more than a little unusual. It was more than he’d ever done before, they both knew that.

“Let’s go.” Sam said quietly, turning away from Dean, heading for the door of the bar they’d been fighting in without even stopping to check the humans that were left behind.

Moving quickly up behind Sam, Dean grabbed the man’s arm. “Hey, are you okay? There’s blood...” He lifted his hand and brushed his finger over the wine colored blood that had trickled down along Sam’s top lip.

“I’m fine.” Sam nodded and slid the back of his hand over his brow, wiping away sweat. “Feel good. I’d just rather not be here when they return.” Sam pursed his lips and looked over at Dean, wiping away the last of the blood from under his nose. “I did what I had to do.” He murmured as if that could justify the inhuman power he’d just shown.

“I know you did, Sam.” Dean scratched at his chest and stared up into Sam’s eyes. “Sammy? It wasn’t bad, you know. That you could do that, I mean.” Different, sure, but not necessarily bad if they were actually going to accomplish anything.

Wetting his lips uncertainly, Sam dipped his head in a nod and stepped back. “Okay. Now come on, let’s go, we’ve got to figure out how to wipe out an entire town of demons. Or figure out what’s really going on here.” Sam grabbed Dean’s arm, tugging him out of the bar.

“Okay, Jesus...” Dean stumbled along behind Sam, through the door and into the parking lot. “Sam, what’s wrong with you? I mean, I get that we gotta figure this out -but fuck. We gotta do it all right this instant?” Dean’s mind was still kind of whirling. The fact that Sam could pull so many demons without taking in any blood was a little worrying. It was enough to make him wonder if there was any truth to what Castiel had eluded to.

Dropping Dean’s hand, Sam looked over at the demon, his heart sinking. “I just don’t want to put us at any more risk. I’m looking after you. I just want...” He sucked in a slow breath, not even sure he knew what he wanted. His eyes widened slightly as he stared at Dean. “It’s not normal. I shouldn’t have been able to do that. That’s what you’re thinking, right? There _is_ something wrong with me.”

“Sam, there’s nothing _wrong_ with you. Listen-” Dean tugged Sam toward the car. “You know there’s shit that I can do that you can’t, I mean, I can freakin’ smoke out of my body. Does that make me something wrong or shitty? You’re the one who’s always telling me I’m not bad...just ‘cause of who I am.” Dean stopped when they reached the car.

Leaning back against the fender, he looked up at Sam, waiting till their eyes met before he continued. “I love you, what you did in there. I’m not gonna lie - it rattled me a little. But shit Sam. You saved our lives. You saved _my_ life - that can’t be all bad.” His fingers brushed the back of Sam’s hand.

“Yeah, okay.” Sam nodded slowly and twisted his hand to catch Dean’s, squeezing softly. “I love you too. Just...” Sighing, Sam looked around the abandoned street, staring off into the distance as he spoke again. “I could feel it, you know? The power, the rush. I felt like I could just pull all of them. And even now, it’s like this spark pumping in me, like I could do anything.” Sam frowned, knowing Dean would understand what he wasn’t saying. He was _scared_ of himself.

“But you controlled it, Sam. You stopped. I mean, come on - if you were like all crazy out of control you’d pull me. You gonna do that?” Dean stepped a little closer, fingers tightening on Sam’s.

“God no.” Sam half gasped and reached out, tugging Dean toward him and holding him close. “I won’t ever get that bad.” Sam murmured into Dean’s hair though the idea crossed his mind that maybe they should seal Dean back into his body again, just to be safe.

“There, so - it’s not all crazy. And I know you, Sam.” Dean pressed his hand to Sam’s chest; he could feel Sam’s heartbeat thudding away quickly. “I _know_ you. _You_ Sam. You’re still the man I met, the man I feel in love with.” Dean blinked and took a deep breath. “You’re still my Sam.”

Sam was quiet for a few moments, simply holding Dean and letting it reassure him. As the pressure in his chest began to ease, a slow smile pulled at his lips and he pushed at Dean, punching his arm softly. “You’re such a sap.”

Dean’s mouth twitched into a grin. “Am not. I just know you like that kinda shit.” Dean kicked at Sam’s foot and headed around to the passenger door. “Let’s get goin’. You’re right, we gotta figure out what the _hell_ is going on here.”

“You are such a sap, seriously. The man I fell in love with? That’s straight out of a romance novel.” Sam laughed softly and tugged his door open, sliding behind the wheel and turning to face Dean as he climbed in. “Be honest, you read romance novels when I’m not looking don’t you?”

“Fuck off,” Dean muttered. But he shifted across the seat a little, pulling his leg up onto the seat so his knee rested against Sam’s thigh. “You love it.” Dean might have read _The Notebook_ but it absolutely wasn’t a romance novel. Not at all.

“Yeah, alright. Maybe a little.” Sam laughed softly, starting up the car and shifting it into drive before dropping his hand down to Dean’s leg, sliding up. “We gotta stay in a different town if we don’t want the demons to swarm our motel room.” Sam squeezed softly and fixed his eyes on the road, ready to get them out of the town.

“I wanna look at a map. Something’s bugging me. I mean, it’s like we made it all the way around the outskirts of the damn town killin’ shit. There’s a clear zone I think. What if it’s because there’s something going on in the center of town. Like in Buffy.” Dean grinned.

Blinking a few times at the road, Sam tried to fight off the smile but failed, laughing louder as he turned the car to head toward the center of town. “Buffy? Seriously? Alright, Dean, no more motel TV for you. Next thing you know you’ll be wanting to watch pirated porn while we have sex.”

“Buffy is very educational. So is porn come to think of it. But I don’t really need porn, Sammy. I got you.” Beaming a smile at his lover, Dean slumped down in the seat and looked thoughtful. “The thing is, in Buffy, there was that hell mouth thing under the high school. What if there’s something like that here? A hole punched through or ... something like that? What you think?”

“Maybe. I could see Lucifer doing something like that, letting them just crawl out as they will.” Sam nodded slowly as he thought about it, trying to imagine where a hole like that might be. “So how would we know? How do we find something like that? Think we should ask Castiel?” Sam’s gaze swept along the streets, trying to determine what area might be safe for them.

“You really wanna call him back here?” Dean laughed softly. Not that he didn’t completely enjoy Sam being a little jealous, but there was a right time and place for it. “Besides. He seemed like he was on his way somewhere important. We can figure it out. We’ll grab a map at a gas station on the way out of town. Plot where everything’s happening and I’m willing to bet there’s a hole in the middle. Then you can figure out how to plug it up.” Dean nodded firmly.

“Alright.” Sam nodded, not really feeling like arguing about the Castiel issue anyway. It wasn’t like he particularly cared if the angel was there or not, so far he hadn’t done much to make Sam one of his fans.

Sam pulled into the first gas station he saw and stopped at the front curb, waiting for Dean to hop out and head inside. The town was mostly deserted by this point and Sam was fairly certain Dean wouldn’t have anyone to pay for the item. Sure enough, a few minutes later Dean was back in the car and Sam gunned it, peeling out of the gas station. It was a relief to be out of the town, Sam just hoped they could figure out where the supposed hole was and that plugging it up wasn’t going to involve one of them losing their life or something.


	3. Chapter 3

Staring down at the map, Sam peered at the place where Dean had pinpointed the hole to be. It seemed like the most logical place and Sam agreed with it, but he wasn’t necessarily looking forward to the idea.

“So, there’s someone controlling the hole,” Sam mumbled and looked over at Dean who was buried in a large, musky book Sam hadn’t seen before. “And if we find the person, we can figure out how to close the hole. Am I on the right page here or is this talk about hole closing just gonna get really fucked up?”

Rolling his eyes, Dean pushed his chair back so he could head over to the fridge and grab a couple of beers. “I lied before - there is something wrong with your brain, but it’s been wrong, obviously, for a lot longer than you’ve known me.” Flashing his grin at Sam, Dean sank back down onto his chair and slid a beer across the table toward Sam. “So, I’m guessing that there’s gonna be a demon guarding it. Someone who’s been assigned the task of keeping it open. Want me to zap over there and check it out?”

“No. Clearly there’s something wrong with _your_ brain.” Sam shot Dean a glare and shook his head. “Do I want you to zap over there and check it out? Jesus, Dean, you don’t think they’d be ready for something like that? They could just kick you into the hole or something.” Sam turned back to the map, a frown turning his lips down. “Is it a literal hole? Like, could we literally fall into it?”

“Well, usually. That’s the stupid part. Gates and damn holes.” Dean sighed and leaned back, taking a few long draws on his beer bottle. Sometimes, the demon is the key. Like, he’s some kinda gatekeeper and if we can get _him_ back in the hole it will just close up.” It was all theory. It was what Dean had put together from his time in Hell; the things he heard, the things he’d been taught.

Sam nodded slowly, scanning the streets on the map. “It’s safe to assume then that there’s more than the one demon. I imagine there are hoards of demons around there, we’d need to kill them or somehow get them to back off long enough to get to the big bad.” Sam looked up and over at Dean, scowling. “I just made a Buffy reference, have you been brain washing me or something?”

Dean laughed. “Obviously you watch too much TV. You should get out more.” Sliding his beer onto the table, Dean locked Sam with a serious look.

“You know, I could just appear there, check it out and be back probably before anything happened. I mean, what if we both get there and something goes wrong? Then what?” Brows furrowing slightly, Dean stretched his leg out and tucked it in under Sam’s.

“And what if you go there and it’s a trap? Dean, they know about us now, there’s no denying that. Lucifer brought you back and he knows what you are to me, I’m not foolish enough to think he won’t try and use you against me.” Sam reached out and grabbed Dean’s arm, clenching too tight. “What if I pull some of them? We get there and I just start yanking them, they might get scared and run like the others did.”

Dean shrugged. “It might work. You’re pretty strong and I can try and get him or her or whatever _it_ is in the hole. It could work. We’ve done good before with less of a plan.” Dean drained about half his bottle of beer and sucked in a deep breath. “So. Is that a plan then?”

“Guess so.” Sam nodded and wet his lips, looking down at the table then back up. “Should probably drink some. Right? I mean, the extra blood can’t hurt.” Sam felt odd, like even asking about it was a bad sign.

“Can I ask you somethin’ without you getting all freaked out?” Dean looked up at Sam from under his lashes.

“Doesn’t sound promising when you put it like that.” Sam murmured, but dipped his head in a slow nod, bracing himself.

“I just ... I’m wondering. The blood, I mean, you know I liked it - it’s like this crazy connection. I can feel this buzzing and stuff. Can’t even explain it. But. Do you feel like you need it? Like ... it’s a _need_?” Dean swallowed. He would give Sam whatever he wanted - but Cas had his mind working overtime.

Something pinched in Sam’s chest and he gripped the edge of the table. Dean’s words were hitting a little too close to home, addressing that part of Sam he’d been adamantly ignoring. “Sometimes. Not so much recently, but before... after Lilith it was pretty bad. ‘Cause, I drained an entire demon, and before I’d drained most of you.” Sam swallowed thickly and continued to ignore Dean watching him. “It’s for the greater good though, right? To save people.”

“It is,” Dean said softly. “I’m not judging, Sam. I just want us to be honest. I mean, you think I feel good about telling you how much I like it? Fuck, it’s crazy that I get turned on just _thinking_ about it. Just wanted to know.” He pressed his leg against Sam’s a little firmer and smiled. “No more secrets.”

“No more.” Sam agreed with a slow nod. “Dean, sometimes I feel like I _need_ you. Like I couldn’t... when you were gone, god, I just about fell apart. I talked to you for hours and you weren’t even _there_. What if that happens again? How will I fight Lucifer if I don’t have you?” Sam sighed and shook his head. “Forget it, that kind of talk isn’t going to help.”

“It’s okay.” Leaning forward, Dean rested his elbow on the table and slid his other hand up Sam’s arm. “I’m not gonna be gone. I’m gonna be there. Hey, I came back this time, right? And now we’ve got an angel on our team. Doesn’t that make us some kind of crazy unstoppable or something?”

“Lucifer brought you back, Dean, that’s why you’re here. And the angel thinks I’m not even human. We’re one fucked up team.” Sam snorted and pushed forward, snagging Dean out of the chair and dragging him up. “I’m going to keep you by my side at all times, so I can be absolutely sure nothing happens to you.”

“I’m oddly okay with that.” Dean smiled broadly and slid his arms over Sam’s shoulders. “You got anything else you need to do tonight or you want to...” Dean turned his wrist and nodded toward it.

“If I said I need to do you would that be too tacky?” Sam smirked and grasped Dean’s hand, bringing it up until he could place a soft kiss to the inside of Dean’s wrist.

“Tacky and yet endearing.” Dean laughed softly, but the sound was tight with anticipation. Sam’s lips were too hot against his skin and Dean’s blood sped a little faster through his veins.

“Mm.” Sam hummed softly and reached behind him, grabbing the blade from the table with a backward stretch. “Do you sometimes feel like you need me?” He asked quietly and brought Dean’s wrist up again, dragging the blade slow and deep over Dean’s wrist.

Dean struggled to keep his breathing slow and steady, but he had to close his eyes as a tremor moved slowly down his body. “I _know_ I need you. Only thing that kept me going when I was-” A groan broke off his words and he leaned a little closer, pressing up against Sam’s chest. The burn of the cut seeped into him, itching at his core as though his body knew what was coming.

“I know,” Sam whispered and lifted the blade, dragging his tongue down the cool metal to lap at the blood coloring it. His eyes darkened when he looked up at Dean and saw only blackness reflected back at him. When the blade was clean, he dropped it down to the floor and latched his mouth down over the cut, backing Dean toward the bed. This was going to be one of those rough times, he could tell, they both needed it too much.

Dean twisted them, shoving Sam down onto the bed and falling forward on top of him. He liked the way Sam's body was so hard under his, solid, muscles and skin drawn taut. His wrist slid over Sam's cheek and left a smear of blood behind it. Then Sam's mouth locked onto the gaping wound again, sucking and lapping at the dark blood flowing from Dean's body.

While he stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed, panting, Dean shoved his hand up under Sam's shirt. Lifting the material, he sank down and caught a nipple between his teeth. Biting hard, he rolled the flesh, sucked it then flicked the tip of his tongue over the sensitive flesh.

“Jesus,” Sam gasped and pulled back, jerking up into the warmth of Dean’s mouth and the lingering sting of pain. He collapsed back onto the mattress and grabbed Dean’s arm, dragging his tongue over the still bleeding wound.

“Dean, I need you,” he murmured against the skin and pulled back, grabbing at Dean’s clothing to try and tug it off. He just wanted them naked and together and Dean claiming him.

Dean slid back far enough to yank his shirt off. His eyes were drawn to the dots of blood on it as he slipped it off his arms and he licked his lips. Fumbling with the button on his jeans, he half fell off the bed and shoved his jeans down. Crawling back up over Sam's thighs, he undid his hunter's jeans and curled his fingers over the heavy material to pull it down.

"You make me crazy," he murmured. As he shoved the material down, Sam's cock bobbed free and Dean couldn't resist leaning down and lapping at the head.

Groaning low in his throat, Sam arched up into Dean’s mouth, his hand slapping hard down onto the back of Dean’s head. “Fuck, Dean.” He moaned and rolled his body up, digging his heels into the mattress. “I want...” Nails scraping along Dean’s scalp, Sam shuddered from the wave of pleasure. He wasn’t even sure how it had gotten so demanding, this desire in him, like Sam was just going to fall apart without Dean touching him.

Dean snatched the lube from the nightstand and slicked up his hand then slid it down the length of Sam's cock. Stroking his lover's hard shaft slowly, he watched the flush that crept up the man's body. He could feel Sam's hips shifting up restlessly, pushing his cock across Dean's slick palm. Letting his head fall back, Dean moaned softly and kept stroking slowly, teasing, pushing Sam as close to the edge as he could.

No part of Sam would ever admit to whining, but he felt close to it, lips parting and closing with needy breaths. Dean’s hand was like wet fire soaking into his skin and Sam couldn’t get enough, hips thrusting up into Dean’s tightening grip.

“C’mon,” he groaned and curved his nails over Dean’s forearm, dragging slowly down the skin. “Dean, please,” he whispered and lifted his head, staring up at Dean with wide eyes.

Walking forward on his knees, Dean let out a small laugh. It was deep and thick and he shivered slightly as his ass slid over the slick flesh of Sam's arousal. Reaching down, Dean curled his fingers around Sam's cock again, squeezing as he pushed it back. The head slid against the puckered skin of his ass and Dean sat back slightly. The first breach, the burn and he pushed back slowly because _fuck_ he just wanted more the moment his body was opened up.

Eyes fluttering closed, Sam had to bite his lip to keep from thrusting hard and fast up into Dean’s body. His nails dug hard into Dean’s hipbones, slowly inching him down. It was tight, more than Sam thought it should be and he forced his eyes open. Dean’s eyes were almost normal, green with blown pupils and Sam’s head tilted to the side, fingers fluttering up to brush over his cheek. “Dean,” he whispered, like a silent request.

A crooked smile moved onto Dean's mouth and he closed his eyes for a moment. One breath and he loosened his tight hold on _himself_. Just for him and Sam. When his eyes opened he knew they would be gleaming black.

He felt Sam's cock twitch, the man's hips rocking up slowly. Falling forward onto one hand, Dean slid his wrist back across Sam's mouth. The instant Sam's tongue was dragging across the cut Dean rocked back and impaled himself again.

A muffled moan fell from Sam’s lips against Dean’s skin as his body thrust up to meet Dean’s drop back. Their bodies crashed together, hard thrusts meeting together with the rocking of their bodies. Sam sucked at the blood, pulling it from Dean and soaking in the spark of energy and the connection between them.

“Dean,” he groaned as he pulled back, chest shaking with each deep breath he pulled in. “I- god.” Sam clutched Dean’s shoulders, pulling him up so their lips could meet in a hard kiss.

Dean's tongue slid forward into the heat of Sam's mouth; all he could taste was his own blood, so thick and rich. He rocked faster, body aching for release as his hips twisted and circled to pull Sam with him closer to the edge. Hands clawing at Sam's arms, his chest, any part of the sweat slick flesh he could reach, Dean moaned into their heated kiss.

When Sam’s orgasm hit, it caught him off guard. The hard clench of Dean around him, the way their bodies were moving together and the blood pulsing through his system. His muscles tensed and his body snapped up, pleasure strong enough to send a shudder through him. Sam squeezed his eyes shut and gripped the back of Dean’s neck, thrusting his body up as his tongue swept through his mouth.

Every throb of Sam's cock sent shivers rippling up Dean's body. Sucking in a deep breath, Dean shifted back, rolled his hips and pressed down hard against Sam's body. His balls tightened and he was sure he could feel Sam's come pulsing hot and thick into him. His own released took his breath away; shocking and bittersweet it jolted his entire body and he lay there spread out across Sam's chest, twitching and shuddering.

Sam’s hands slowly found their way to Dean’s back, settling over his skin and rubbing slow circles. “Never gets old.” He murmured and slowly smiled, refusing to address any of the pressing issues reminding him that they couldn’t savor these forever. No matter how much he wanted to.

“Dean,” Sam whispered, tilting up to press his lips to Dean’s hair.

"Hmm..." Dean's lips were parted slightly as he panted against Sam's shoulder. Fingers curled in Sam's sweat damp hair, he sighed and shifted slightly to pull off his lover. Groaning at the loss, he slid to the side of Sam's body, limbs still draped over the man's body.

Rolling onto his side, Sam gathered Dean close and sighed softly, eyes closing. “So, we still can’t just disappear?”

"Nice try, but no." Dean's fingers brushed over Sam's cheek then his thumb dragged along his lover's bottom lip. "Do I have to promise you again that everything is gonna be okay?" Even now, even though Sam's face was still lust flushed, his lips swollen and blood stained, even _now_ Dean could see worry there.

“No, I remember how the promise goes,” Sam whispered and squeezed Dean a little tighter. It sucked to think about the reality they were facing right away, when all he wanted to do was disappear from it all. “When we get our place, with our dog and stuff, what side of the bed do you want?”

“The side that has you on it.” Dean laughed softly and pressed his open mouth to the side of Sam’s chest.

Smiling softly, Sam curled into Dean and closed his eyes. He was just going to ignore reality for a little while longer, because he could or something. “Dean blanket for me then?”

“Well, I’m not movin’.” Dean nestled closer, lips moving gently on Sam’s neck. “I remember something my Mama used to say to me when I was little.” Dean’s brow furrowed as he thought about it - the sudden intrusion of such an old memory.

“Really?” Sam’s eyes blinked opened, fixing down on Dean though he couldn’t see his face in their position. “What was it?”

“May flights of angels guide you to your rest,” Dean whispered.

“Hm. Well, that’s mildly ironic.” Sam chuckled softly and closed his eyes once more. “Just a little nap, then we go close the hell hole thing.”

“You bet.”

-=-=-=-

Sam slowed the car two blocks from the building, eyes fixing on the empty road. He slowly looked left then right, eyes narrowing as he fixed on the eerie nothingness. “There’s no one around.” Sam whispered and killed the engine, swallowing thickly as he looked over at his lover. “That’s got to be a bad sign right? Think they’re waiting to ambush us inside?”

“Or they think we wouldn’t be crazy enough to come here?” Dean shifted so he could squint across the road and try to see if there was movement in any of the windows. “Probably not worried about people tryin’a get _in_ to hell.”

“Or that could be what they want us to think.” Sam pointed out and looked over at Dean, a faint smirk on his lips. They could probably turn this logic over a thousand times and be no closer to the truth. “Guess we’re just gonna have to go in there and check it out.” Sam bit down on his lip, no wanting to admit to being as nervous as he was.

“Guess so.” Dean cocked an eyebrow and shrugged. “I really want that dog.” Flashing his best grin in spite of the apprehension he felt, he reached out and tousled Sam’s hair.

“I can already tell you’re gonna like that dog more than you do me,” Sam mumbled and snagged his pistol from the back seat before pushing out the door. The street was eerily quiet, the air weighted and thick with tension. Sam could tell instantly something big was about to happen and one look at Dean told him the demon felt the same thing. “Any ideas?” He murmured, stepping around the car to get to Dean’s side.

“Just be careful? I don’t know who’s gonna be in there, but I mean, whoever they are they’re gonna be way stronger than me. Stronger than the other demons you’ve faced. Sam, just don’t let anything rattle you. No matter what they throw at you, no matter what gets said. Okay?” Dean’s fingers moved to Sam’s hip.

“Okay.” Sam nodded though he thought that was a little easier said than done. It was almost impossible to handle too much crap being thrown at you, but Sam would try and Dean would keep him grounded if he needed to.

Sam stepped back and let Dean lead the way into the warehouse, stepping in behind Dean to sweep his gaze around the open building. He could hear a rushing noise in the background, like the pull of air presumably through the gate of hell, but darkness of the front hallway kept whatever was there a secret.

“Dean? You feel anything?” He whispered the words against Dean’s ear, hand brushing along the small of his back.

"Unfortunately," Dean said softly. He leaned back against Sam without even realizing it until his back bumped into the man. It was like there was something winding around his spine and trying to draw him forward. Resisting it wasn't hard, but he figured that was just because the pull of Sam was so much stronger. "It's definitely something not good."

“Like what?” Sam whispered and his shoulders tensed, bracing himself for whatever was waiting for them around the corner. Whatever Dean was going to answer needn’t have been saved when they rounded the corner and Sam saw the man across the room. Sucking in a slow breath, Sam grabbed the edge of Dean’s shirt, pulling him back. “We gotta get out of here.”

“Now, now Sam, there’s no rush, come and stay for a while.” The smile on Lucifer’s face was disturbingly cheerful, even as he grabbed the arm of a woman to the side of him and half kicked, half shoved her into the hole. “Hello Dean, nice to see you again.”

“Lucifer.” Dean’s voice was void of emotion and he slid in front of Sam, holding the dagger out in front of him. “You stay away from Sam.” It seemed completely pointless to say something like that. Dean knew he was no match for Lucifer. Reaching behind him, Dean curled his fingers over Sam’s arm.

“That’s cute.” Lucifer’s head tilted to the side for a moment, considering them before laughing. “Don’t worry Dean; there will still be a place for you once Sam says yes. I’ll let you stick with me, you can be my... what is it you two call each other? Lovers? The demon and the hunter?”

Sam was finding it easier to ignore Lucifer than he’d thought it would be, mainly because he was scanning the row of people that Lucifer seemed to be tossing into hell like they were just pieces of trash. They needed to find the demon to seal off the hole before more people lost their lives.

“Dean,” Sam whispered, nudging the demon forward.

“Sammy,” Dean said softly. Sam’s eyes simply widened briefly and his gaze flipped quickly toward the people lined up by the pit. Steeling himself, Dean bit down on his bottom lip and moved closer, walking slowly and trying to look like he was just pacing. He was counting on Sam to keep Lucifer occupied.

“So you’re bored and throwing people into Hell?” Sam tried to keep his voice flat and unaffected, eyeing the hole and Lucifer in turn and purposefully not looking over at Dean. If they could distract him long enough then this would stop, Dean could get the demon keeping the hole open back into hell.

“If only it were so simple.” Lucifer half laughed, shaking his head. “I really like you Sam. You’ve just got this certain level of spunk. You remind me so much of myself, it’s remarkable.”

“I’m nothing like you,” Sam snapped back, eyes narrowing at Lucifer as he stepped forward. “I’m not even close.”

“No? Because we both don’t think this world is unfair? And we both don’t harbor a bitter resentment for our fathers? Tell me Sam, don’t you ever feel like you got the short straw?” Lucifer sighed then tilted his head to the side once more, lifting his hand toward Dean. “Dean, bad boy, you wouldn’t want to slip and fall into the hole would you?” Lucifer’s voice was still calm, but there was a definite threat to the words that made Sam tense.

“What you worried about? You think I want to go back down there?” Dean’s lips twitched, his jaw aching because his teeth were clenched so tightly. Staring hard at Lucifer, he blinked a few times and then turned his black eyes toward Sam. He just needed a few more minutes. There was a demon there, they’d been right. He was a small man, older, maybe even a little frail looking. But inside, _inside_ him Dean could sense the power, the link to the pit.

“I just remember what your poor little Sammy was like without you.” Lucifer rolled his shoulders in a shrug, stepping forward toward Sam. “He was so broken, would have done anything to get you back. What do you think Sam? Would you say yes now, if I promised no harm would ever come to Dean?”

Sam scowled at Lucifer and tried to hide his nerves. He had to remind himself that Lucifer couldn’t enter his body without Sam’s permission and that was the most important thing. “I’m never saying yes to you. I’m gonna kill you. I’m gonna rip your fucking heart out.”

Lucifer’s head tilted back with a soft laugh, his hand extending to a girl who was waiting at his side to be thrown into the hole. “That’s good Sam. You just keep fanning that flame, make it all nice and hot for me.”

“Jesus,” Sam muttered and looked away, annoyed at the way Lucifer had called him out. “You’re so wrong.”

“No, I’m not. I don’t lie Sam. Fact is, I’m giving you, oh... six months, tops I think. You’ll be saying yes, completely willingly. And I can’t wait.” Lucifer smirked, tossing the girl easily into the hole.

Dean dropped the dagger to his side and took a few steps closer to the demon that seemed connected to the pit. His eyes moved quickly from Sam back to Lucifer and he took a deep breath. The demon was about ten feet from Lucifer, ten feet from the pit. If Dean could just make it there. Shifting back on his heels he readied himself. One more quick glance at Sam and he shot forward.

“Whoa there sparky.” Lucifer’s arm shot up and before Sam could even process anything Dean was flying through the air and knocking hard into the far wall with a sickening crunch.

Some part of Sam, of course, knew that Dean wasn’t going to be hurt permanently, it didn’t work that way for him, but fear shot through him anyway and he hurried over to Dean, kneeling to check over the demon’s unconscious body. “What the hell is this?” Sam shot Lucifer a glare, watching him pushing people faster and faster into the pit.

“Don’t worry about it Sammy, just doing what I’ve got to do. Most of these people were dead anyway.” Lucifer kicked two people in one after another and watched Sam, that same smile still playing on his lips. “How are my brothers by the way? I imagine they’ve been in contact with you.”

“What does this do?” Sam gestured to the people, fingers itching to run forward and help them, but knowing it was too late. “What are you trying to accomplish?”

“I just think it’s my time now. Hey, Sam, don’t look so sad, like I’ve said, you’ll get to live. You’ll just be sharing your skin, don’t worry. To you? It’ll be nothing, no worse than how you feel now.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Sam snapped before he could stop himself, eyes narrowed in a glare.

“Oh come on Sam, _I’m_ more human than you at this point.” Lucifer sighed and pushed the rest of the people in, stepping back after a moment. “See you soon, Sam. Tell Dean to use some ice on that wound.”

With that he was gone and Sam stared for a long moment as the demon along the side wall slowly stood and walked forward. He looked over at Sam still kneeling by Dean for just a beat before he jumped into the pit and in a rush of air it swirled closed.

-=-=-=-

The first thing that Dean managed to think coherently was that his head felt like someone had hit him with a sledgehammer. His second thought was _Sam_. Flinging his body up from where he was laying he felt like his brain was going to explode. Everything was spinning and he squeezed his eyes shut and held out a hand blindly. “Sam?”

“I’m here.” Sam lurched forward quickly, grabbing Dean’s hand and squeezing softly. “Dean?” He felt like he’d been waiting for days for Dean to wake up and the worry was really starting to get to him.

“God, Sam. M’sorry. He was fast - and ...wait - what happened?” Dean pulled his hand from Sam’s so he could slide his hands over Sam’s cheeks. “You okay? Did he hurt you?” Dean couldn’t even imagine what Lucifer would do to try and convince Sam to say _yes_.

“No. He just dumped the rest of those people into the hole and left. It must have been some trick to getting the apocalypse going.” Sam murmured and shifted around, lying against Dean’s side. “So you know, he made me doubt myself and all that then went on his merry way. Fucking creep.”

“He _is_ Lucifer. He’s not Mary Poppins. Holy _Hell_ my head hurts. What the fuck. I just remember flying through the air.” Dean lifted his fingers and tenderly probed the back of his head.

“Hold on.” Sam slid off the bed and paced over to his bag, grabbing some pills before snagging a bottle of water from the mini-fridge. Stepping back to the bedside, Sam sank down and offered them to Dean. “Take these, it’ll help.”

Narrowing his eyes at the pills cradled in Sam’s hand, Dean finally reached out and took them, popped them in his mouth and washed them down with some water. Groaning, he lay back down on his side, staring up at Sam. “So? What did he say? Did he tell you a bunch of crap that isn’t true?”

“Hard to say. Everyone’s going around accusing me of not being human now-a-days so unless there’s some newsletter...” Sam shrugged and slipped down to curl next to Dean again.

“He didn’t say that.” Dean stared into Sam’s eyes and smiled slightly...but something inside him was hesitant, a little unsure. “Did he?”

“Yup. Said he was even more human than me now. So, well.” Sam sighed and slipped his arm over Dean, closing his eyes.

“Well, that’s not true.” Dean rubbed at his temple and shifted a little closer. “I guess we didn’t stop much of anything this time, huh?” About the last thing that Dean had expected to see was _Lucifer_. Sure, Sam was safe as long as he said no, but that just seemed too easy and everyone else seemed so convinced that Sam was going to say yes.

“Not sure we were meant to.” Sam murmured against Dean’s shoulder, closing his eyes slowly. He’d been thinking about this while Dean was unconscious and it made his stomach churn a little. “I don’t think Cas knew or anything, but I think Lucifer knew we’d turn up. I mean, all he was doing was tossing those demons into Hell, I seriously don’t think he needed to be there for that.”

“How? How could he know, Sam? You me and Cas, that’s it.” Dean sighed and rubbed at his face. Even though his head was still pounding he felt like he should get up and move, do something. He just didn’t seem to know what to do.

“Because he isn’t super powerful and all knowing?” Sam huffed and closed his eyes, swallowing down a shudder. “Guess we should tell Cas we failed, huh?”

Dean groaned. “And let his feathery ass gloat? Or give us shit? Or worse - give us another mission we can screw up. This is like running on a fucking treadmill.” Closing his eyes, Dean tried not to focus on the pounding at his temples.

“So _now_ you want to run off? I hear Jamaica is pretty this time of year.” Sam shifted over, gently pressing his lips to Dean’s neck and slowly kissing up.

The gentle brush of Sam’s lips went a long way to dulling the pain in Dean’s head. “Nah, I’m in it for the long run now. Hey ... those people... they weren’t demons.” Things were still a little fuzzy in Dean’s mind. “Was that? Was... was he doing that just for fun?” A sick feeling pooled in Dean’s stomach.

“God,” Sam whispered and pressed in a little closer, flushing his body against Dean’s until he was half sliding over him. “He said it was for the apocalypse thing, I think. I’d really rather not know. Just want to do that damn ritual thing and be done with this.” Sam spoke against Dean’s neck, resisting the desire to simply lie on top of Dean.

“So - we need to get Cas here. Find out if there’s anything else we need to help with for this...ritual or whatever.” Dean wasn’t looking forward to another conversation between the three of them. Each time they met it seemed to get a little worse, a little more abrasive.

“Mmhmm.” Sam hummed softly and slid his lips up along Dean’s neck, catching his earlobe between his teeth and drawing it out. “He was wrong right?” Sam whispered, fingers sliding up though Dean’s hair and curving to drag along his scalp.

"He was... what?" Dean was trying to resist leaning in to Sam's fingers, "Sam, you're, uh. You're making it hard for me to think."

“I know,” Sam murmured and continued kissing along Dean’s neck, sucking on his skin and sliding his leg between Dean’s to roll slowly along his crotch. It wasn’t a defense mechanism really; it was mostly just Sam, unable to really, honestly talk about what Lucifer had said without having a distraction too. “‘Bout me though. He was wrong about me.” Sam slid his lips along Dean’s jaw, kissing up until his mouth was brushing over Dean’s.

"Luc- yeah, he was wrong. You," Dean's body was reacting, how could he help it? Sam was all muscle and hot, and he smelled good and _fuck_. "You're human, you're _my_ human." Sam's lips were just barely brushing across his and Dean could feel each hot puff of air from Sam's lungs. "Sam... we should. The plan. Cas."

“Nothing like killing the mood by saying Cas all breathy like that.” Sam pulled back, looking down at Dean. He watched him for a moment before sighing and rolling to the side. “Alright, yeah. We gotta do whatever.” He waved toward the empty motel room like it could make Castiel magically appear.

“Dude, you’re not seriously pissed are you?” Dean sat up and dragged a hand down his face. He could feel the heat on his cheeks; the way Sam had made his heart race.

“Jesus, no. I’m not _pissed_.” Sam looked over at Dean with wide eyes, lips pursing. “We just had a run in with fucking Lucifer, Dean, pretty sure we can take a few moments to not focus on things.”

“Sam, you always want a few moments to not focus.” Dean regretted the words almost instantly. He knew that feeling Sam had, that _want_ to avoid it all - try and sink into a different world. Dean knew it well.

Looking down at his hands, Sam frowned, tangling up in the sudden swarm of guilt and irritation. He felt a little like he was being torn in so many different directions and it was almost sickening to think Lucifer was _right_. He did get the short straw. “You’re right. Sorry. Won’t let us get distracted anymore.” Sam pushed up off the bed, heading over to the table and the hex bag there.

“Aww, c’mon, Sam. I didn’t- listen. Remember what I said before we went in there? You can’t let him say shit that’s gonna rattle you. You gotta just - you gotta know what you know. You can’t let someone like that tell you you’re less than what you are. Who is he to judge?” Dean knew Sam; he knew the way words like that would stick in Sam’s mind.

“It’s fine, Dean. You’re right. I’ve always known this is my life and I have to stop trying to shrug it off.” Sam reached out for the hex bag, untying the top and tipping the contents out onto the table. “So how do I call Cas? Pray? Or just sit around and assume he’ll randomly appear?” Sam headed over the mini-fridge to get a beer and really it was the first time since Dean had become a constant in his life that Sam genuinely felt like the hollow hunter he’d been before. It was too hauntingly familiar but Sam had to accept the fact that he’d let Lucifer out and now he had to put him back.

Dean stared across at Sam for a few moments, watching as his lover disappeared behind a blank expression. He sighed and flopped back down onto the bed . "I usually just-"

The angel appeared in a burst of air, the muffled sound of his wings disappearing quickly.

Dean blinked and shrugged. "uh, think about him and he appears." Turning his head to the side he smiled weakly at Castiel even though it seemed to mean very little to the angel most times.


	4. Chapter 4

"Dean, are you well?" Castiel took a few steps toward the bed and hesitated, looking back over his shoulder at Sam. “You were unsuccessful.”

“Yeah.” Sam glanced over at the angel, then the demon on the bed and sighed. “Well, the hole is closed now. We just didn’t really save anyone, watched a lot of people get killed instead. So that’s that. What’s next?” Sam opened his beer and dropped heavily into his chair, tugging a map closer for something to look at that wasn’t the angel giving Dean concerned glances.

"Stop fussin' ya feathery freak. I'm fine." Dean widened his eyes and pointed over at Sam. He shouldn't have bothered trying to be subtle.

"There's something wrong with Sam?" Castiel turned slowly and walked over to the table. "What happened to you?" He moved as if to reach out for Sam's shoulder, but hesitated when the hunter pulled back.

"He's fine. It just didn't quite go as planned." Dean rolled off the bed and headed over to the table to shove Cas out of the way gently and sink down onto the chair next to Sam.

“Lucifer was there. He says hi.” Sam looked up at Castiel for a moment before shaking his head and looking back down. “Do we really have to rehash the details? Can’t we just focus on what to do next?” Sam couldn’t say what had happened, but he felt a little like a switch had been flicked in him, reality finally slapping him in the face.

"You saw Lucifer? Sam - _what_ happened? Did he tell you anything?" Castiel glanced over at Dean.

Dean simply shrugged. "Don't look at me, I was flyin' through the air and slamming into a fuckin' wall. He's strong. Did you know that, Cas?" Dean's eyes lingered on Sam's face and he frowned. “Sam? Did he say anything after I was out of commission?”

“We’ve discussed this.” Sam groaned and let his hand drop down onto the table. “He said I’ll say yes. He said I’m not human. He gave me a timeline of six months or less. That’s the summary version and since I’m not going to say yes it doesn’t matter, right?” Sam didn’t really want to hear Castiel’s opinions on the subject, just in case.

"If he believes you will say _yes_ , perhaps there are still things we don't know." Castiel moved over to the window and stared out. "I've been working on translating the Enochian, it's a complicated ritual, but I believe we have access to everything required. Sam, you'll need to abstain from ... taking the blood until we perform the ritual. Are you able to do that?"

Dean winced and reached his hand out to slide over Sam's. "He's fine, Cas. We'll do what we need to do." He wasn’t sure any longer who he was trying to convince.

“I don’t need it. I’m not addicted or something. Anything else you have in mind for my detox? Do they have a blood treatment center somewhere?” Sam glared at Castiel’s back, bringing his hands back to fold his arms over his chest. “Anything else I can do to please the Heavenly beings?”

"Yeah, you sound fine." Dean pulled his hand back and stared at Sam for a while. Finally, he shook his head and blew out a breath. "Cas, anything else we need to do?"

"There's a dagger that is required for the ritual. It's currently in the possession of one of your _kin_." Cas gestured loosely at Dean.

"Kin?"

"A demon."

"Cas? You do know I'm not actually related to all the other demons in Hell, right?" Dean laughed mirthlessly and shook his head again. "Anyway. Fuck. Between the two of you, my brain is hurting again. Why can't you just fuckin' pop over there and get this dagger?"

"It's warded. I'm unable to get inside. You'll need to break in - and Dean, the signs on the building mean it's probably guarded by another demon."

"Of course it is," Dean muttered.

“So we’ll go get it.” Sam shrugged and pushed out of the chair, heading automatically for his bag. “Where is it? Anything more specific you can tell us about the demon guarding it?” Sam began packing automatically, throwing his things together into his duffel bag without even realizing it.

The angel shook his head. "I haven't been inside. I'm not sure what other protections they'll have in place. Be prepared for anything."

"Hold on a fuckin' minute. We just got back, Cas. Sam needs rest - and you just said you don't want him drinkin'- I mean. Fuck we need to sleep and rest and eat." Dean whipped his head toward Sam. "When was the last time you ate, Sam?"

“What’s it matter, Dean? That would just be me taking more time not focusing, right?” Sam wasn’t strong enough to shoot the words back at Dean and look at him so he stared down at the bag, pulling out a pack of donuts. “I’ll eat and drive. You rest up because you got injured. Cas, location?”

Cas nodded. "The next town over. There's a warehouse on the outskirts of town. You'll know the knife when you see it, the blade is embedded in a human femur." Cas disappeared and the papers blew off the table.

"Fucker," Dean murmured. "Sam, you need to rest." Dean turned on his chair and watched as Sam moved quickly around the room. He was worried about him; Sam hadn't seemed this withdrawn since they'd first met.

“Did he say a human femur?” Sam looked up, shirt clutched in his hand. “Gross.” Shaking his head, Sam stuffed the last article of clothing into his bag and lifted it, hooking it over his shoulder. “I’ll come back in for your bag, you should rest, how’s your head?”

“Sam? What’s going on?” Dean sat there, staring at Sam.

“Nothing.” Sam looked over at Dean, staring at him for a long moment before shrugging. “We’ve got somewhere to be. A thing that might get us a step closer to sending Lucifer back. Might as well get on it now, right?”

“Okay, Sammy. Whatever. But I don’t need any rest. I’m a demon.” Pushing up from the chair Dean crossed the room and grabbed his duffel that he had yet to even unpack. “Let’s go then.”

“Fine.” Sam headed out of the room, ignoring the way his heart sank painfully. He’d spoiled himself really, having all these grand ideas that he was anything more than a hunter. Even if they managed to get Lucifer back in hell, Sam was sure it wouldn’t be over. It was _never_ over.

Shaking the thoughts away, Sam pulled the door open and threw his bag in the back, starting up the car and waiting for Dean to climb in beside him. In truth, his stomach and body were aching and his eyes felt too dry when he blinked, but he could deal. “Get the map,” he muttered, slipping the car into reverse to pull out of the parking lot.

“Yes Sir,” Dean grumbled. Reaching under the seat, he grabbed the map and unfolded it. “There’s only one town for a long fuckin’ way so I’m gonna assume that’s it. ‘Bout an hour’s drive. Go north.” Folding the map back up, Dean tossed it on the seat between them.

Sam felt a little sick, the tension in the air between them almost too much for him to handle. Just a few hours before - hell, even less than that - and Dean would be sliding across the seat to comfort him. Or touch him. Sam wasn’t even sure if he could escape the gnawing in his chest and his fingers tightened on the wheel. “You gonna be up to fighting whatever it is that’s there?”

“I’m fine, Sam. Just got a headache. You gonna talk to me now we’re alone?” Dean turned so he could see Sam’s profile in the dim light.

“What is there to talk about?” Sam asked quietly, keeping his eyes fixed on the road.

“Nothing.” Dean folded his arms across his chest and let himself slide a little lower on the seat. He was tired of trying to drag information out of Sam. Maybe Dean was a demon, but he’d paid attention to the things Sam had told him about relationships, about talking and it seemed like it was Sam who had the most trouble with it sometimes.

-=-=-=-

The warehouse didn’t look any different to Dean, but he had no reason to believe there _weren’t_ markings all over it. He had a feeling that if Castiel could have been there he would have. For some reason the angel seemed a little over-protective at the moment.

As soon as Sam turned off the engine about half a block away, Dean climbed out of the car and went around to the trunk to arm himself. Hauling the heavy metal up, he leaned in and rooted through the equipment. He kept his voice low when Sam came around the back end of the car. “What we takin’?”

“You have the knife?” Sam glanced over at Dean as he nodded then turned back to the weapons and supplies there. “Couple of guns, holy water will at least distract them. I’ll take that.” Sam grabbed the flask and tucked it under his belt. “We gonna wing it or you got a plan?” Sam now felt stiff even though he was still aching and he rubbed along his eyes.

“I never have a plan. You can get through the locks?” Dean leaned down and snatched up the lock pick kit and held it out for Sam. When their fingers brushed and Sam pulled away quickly, Dean frowned. “Sam?”

“Yeah. I can get through the locks.” Sam nodded and tucked the kit into his back pocket before snagging the shot gun sitting on the top of the pile in the trunk. “I’ll lead then; you let me know if you sense anything. You can feel Lucifer now, right? Now that you know what it feels like?” Sam stared down at his hands as he gathered up shot gun shells, busying himself with menial tasks because he couldn’t meet Dean’s gaze.

Letting out a long breath, Dean stepped back and nodded slowly. “Okay, Sam.” It was horrible feeling so disconnected from Sam - almost like he was missing a limb.

He stood there and waited as Sam closed the truck as quietly as he could and then fell into step beside Sam. They moved silently along the block, sticking to the shadows and Dean waited about half the block then slipped his fingers into Sam’s back pocket like he always did. Even if Sam didn’t want it, Dean _needed_ to feel close to Sam.

The heat from Dean’s fingers was oddly soothing and Sam felt relieved by that, as if it was reminding him that yes, he was still human. Now-a-days it seemed that decision was still up in the air. That wasn’t really the issue here though. Sam needed to do this, to fix things, and he had to accept that there was no way to hide from it all no matter how hard he tried. Dean didn’t even want that.

Inching forward, Sam grabbed the lock pick and held his breath, trying his hardest to make no noise as he fiddled with the locks until they finally clicked. Sam slowly straightened up to his feet, glancing over his shoulder and slowly around the empty street. Then his eyes caught on Dean and Sam’s heart pinched at the obvious wariness there, like he expected Sam to just snap at him.

“Dean,” he whispered and turned to him, reaching out to snag the back of his neck and draw him close. The kiss was too hard and off, missing something Sam couldn’t name, and he pulled back after a moment, pressing his lips to Dean’s temple instead. “Be safe.”

Tilting his head slightly, Dean half smiled against Sam's cheek and nodded. "All good, Sammy." Blinking he pulled back and met Sam's gaze for a moment then stepped back so Sam could push the door open.

Sam felt like telling Dean that no, everything wasn’t good. But that would be doing the very thing he supposedly wasn’t doing anymore - taking a break from the issues to focus on himself or them. So he turned away and slowly pushed the door forward, inching his way into the warehouse. There were a lot of demons as far as he could tell and Sam could feel the power, the energy crackling in the halls.

“What’s gonna happen?” Sam whispered over his shoulder, glancing at Dean and pulling his gun free. “What is that?”

Dean pressed his fingers hard into his eyes for a moment. "Shit," he hissed, “there are ... there's a lot of them, Sam." The energy was palpable and when Dean blinked his eyes open again as he squinted down the long hallway. "I think. Sam, I think we should try and just get in and out," Dean whispered.

“Okay. I’ll go for the demon guarding, distract him, and you get the blade. Yell my name when you’ve got it and we’ll get the hell out of here.” Sam nodded. It was a ruthless plan, they’d probably get caught or killed or worse - yeah, there was worse - but it was really all they could do. “Remember, femur bone.”

“Not like I’m gonna forget,” Dean muttered.

Dipping his head in a nod, Sam pressed up against the wall and slowly inched his way down the hall, Dean right behind him. Looking into the room, Sam’s eyes widened. Dean hadn’t been lying, there were demons everywhere, hardly even speaking, and simply standing. _Waiting_. Sam really didn’t want to know what they were waiting for.

Dean grabbed his arm and jerked his head to the side. Turning his gaze that way, Sam could just make out a man sitting in the corner. He would be like any of the others if he wasn’t sitting right in front of the box that had to contain the blade. There wasn’t much room between the other demons and the one they’d have to fight, but well, they only had to distract him long enough for Dean to get the blade.

In one quick movement, Sam moved along the wall, sticking to the shadows until he half stumbled into an alcove there along the wall. That would work well. Sam glanced back at Dean for just a moment before he was lunging silently forward, snagging the demon and dragging him back up against the wall and into the tiny space.

The demon looked surprised to see him, his eyes widening. “You’re not supposed to be in here. We have charms to keep humans out.”

Sam blinked at him for a long moment, not sure how to process the fact before he was dropping the demon, stepping back and lifting his hand. “You have something we need. So we’ll just take it and be on our way.”

“You’re him aren’t you?” The demon’s head quirked to the side and his black eyes were almost gleaming. “Sam Winchester. Damn, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“There really must be a newsletter,” Sam muttered before he was narrowing his eyes and focusing on the demon there, using the lingering tingle of power from Dean’s blood earlier. It was remarkably easy, the way he could just barely focus and black smoke trickled out of the demon’s mouth.

Dean slid along the wall until he was behind that large case. Dropping down to his haunches, he fiddled with the small door on the back of the case. There was a small lock and he put to work the skills Sam had been trying to teach him. Slipping the small pick into the lock, Dean twisted it slowly until he heard a slight click and the door gave.

As quietly as he could, Dean pulled the small door open and reached in to grab the dagger. The bone handle felt oddly warm in his hand, lighter than he expected. "Gross," he whispered. Demon or not, holding a human bone in his hand was horrible, thinking about the fact that someone had obviously made it into the dagger for a reason just made it ten times work.

Glancing quickly over at Sam, he squinted at the shadows. He could just make out Sam's figure leaning toward the demon. Realizing Sam was alright for the moment, Dean slipped the dagger inside his jacket and zipped it up then slid back along the wall until he reached Sam. Nodding he waited for Sam.

Sam stopped only long enough to check the body of the man the demon had been occupying. He’d probably been dead for a long time, it was no use. So Sam gently lowered him to the ground and turned out of the alcove, nodding at Dean to lead the way back out of the warehouse. If they could just remain quiet enough to keep from alerting the demons.

Dean’s eyes trailed over the lifeless body and he saw the sadness on Sam’s face even in the semi-dark of the room. Pressing his lips together, he moved in behind Sam again and followed the hunter along the longest wall toward the door. They were _so_ close to the door and Dean could _feel_ something shift in the air around them.

“Sam,” he whispered. It was only a breath of a sound, his fingers reaching for the small of Sam’s back. “Run,” he urged. Pushing up to his feet an instant before he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, Dean shoved at Sam’s back and pushed him toward the open door.

The warning was clear in Dean’s voice and Sam wasted no time in darting forward, shoving the door open hard and knowing Dean would keep up. He could actually likely run further and faster, but Sam also happened to know Dean would have his back. He was reaching for the door handle before they even got there, tugging open the driver’s door quickly and leaping in.

Sam could see them pouring out of the building now, hurrying to catch up and the minute Dean was in the passenger seat he peeled away from the curb. Sam was panting, clutching the wheel hard, but his eyes were drawn over to Dean, watching as he pulled the blade slowly out.

“Well, at least there’s that.” Sam shrugged, glancing once in his rear view before looking away. There was no way they could risk getting a motel in town, Sam had no idea how long it would be until they stopped, but at least when Cas returned this time Sam wouldn’t have to be reminded that he had failed considering he hadn’t. And at the moment, Sam was desperate not to think about what the demon had tried to throw him off guard with.

“You okay, Sam?” Dean was watching Sam in the darkness. Leaning a little closer, he finally reached out and slid his hand over Sam’s thigh. If Sam pushed him away so be it.

“I don’t know.” Sam answered honestly and let his hand drop over Dean’s on his thigh. “We got the blade, that’s what’s important right?” Glancing over at Dean, Sam half smiled then looked away. “Are you okay?” That demon that Sam had pulled was haunting him, the words were echoing in his mind and Sam felt a little sick.

“I’m fine, and I don’t believe you. But, if you want we can drive for a while and pretend like nothing is wrong then I’ll just get it out of you at the motel. That work for you?” Sam hadn’t pushed his hand away so Dean shifted a little closer, hesitant but it was what they did; they worked _together_ , they worked through _shit_ together. That’s what Sam had promised him when all the crap started.

Groaning softly, Sam shook his head and squeezed Dean’s hand on his thigh before releasing and grabbing the wheel once more. “Let’s just do this now, no use putting off the inevitable.” Pulling into the motel parking lot, Sam glanced once more out the back windshield before looking at the motel. “You think we’re safe here?”

“Safe as we are anywhere.” Dean reached in his pocket and pulled out a hex bag, grinned and flipped it on his palm.

“Right.” Sam nodded and pushed the door open, stepping out and looking around nervously before heading to the motel. He wasn’t completely sure they were safe, but the hex bag was a little reassuring. And maybe he wasn’t really looking forward to this upcoming conversation.

Stepping into the motel room, Sam kicked off his shoes and shrugged out of his coat, pacing across the room in quick strides. “So we should get a hold of Cas, now that we have the blade. He can come and tell you what a good job you’re doing.”

“How ‘bout you tell me what’s going on first.” Dean toed out of his boots and left his jacket slung over the back of the chair by the door. Just like always he grabbed the container of rock salt and lined the doors and windows all the while keeping one eye on Sam.

For a few long minutes Sam just continued his pacing through the room, shifting things around on the bed then the table then the dresser. He wasn’t even really sure where to start with the issues currently spinning his mind. “I’m not-” Sam inhaled sharply and turned away from Dean, tightening his fingers into a fist. “Dean, I don’t think I’m human.”

“You said that before and I said that was crap. You’re the same man I met ... way back whenever.” It felt to Dean like years had passed since he’d first met Sam. “Cas doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about.” He pulled out a charcoal stick and faced the door so he could draw a Devil’s trap on the back of it.

He could sense how wound up the hunter was, it had been building for days and Dean had a horrible feeling it was about time for Sam to let it all go.

“That place was set with traps, Dean. And a ward, a ward that prevented any _humans_ from entering.” Sam’s eyes widened with the words, like saying them out loud made it all more real. “But I got in just fine, huh? I fooled their wards because I’m not even human, I’m... Jesus I have no idea what I am.”

“Wards? Sam, it doesn’t work like that. There’s ways around everything. It’s like...” Dean searched his brain. “It’s like carrying a keycard or something. Whatever crazy magic they were using - it just recognized what was in you. It doesn’t mean you’re not human.” Dean actually didn’t have much of a clue what it meant.

Turning back to face Sam, he put the charcoal down and dusted off his hands. “Does it matter? You've said before that it doesn’t matter what I am. Why does it matter so much what you are?”

“Because I’m- Dean. Seriously. I didn’t make a deal, I didn’t go to hell. I should be human, I should be normal with weird circumstances. If I’m not human than what the hell am I? Just Lucifer’s play thing? The outfit he’ll be wearing when the final days come?” Sam dropped onto the edge of the bed, sighing as he dropped his head into his hands.

Sighing, Dean paced over to the bed and stood by Sam, fingers slipping through his long hair. In the lamplight Sam's hair looked almost golden sometimes. "Sam, you're a lot of things. You're a hunter, you're a son, you're crazy, you're mine, and... I just don't see how this one thing - how it's more important than anything else. You think I set out to make some crazy deal and become - _this_. You always tell me it doesn't matter, that you _know_ me."

Dean kneeled down when Sam didn't look up; he ducked his head down so he could try and meet Sam's gaze. "You telling me you believe that labels like that really define who we are? 'Cause ... Sam, I'm a demon. You think I act like one?"

“You don’t. But god, Dean, I’m not a demon. I’ve worked so hard my entire life to save every single person I can. I’ve done all these things, I never stop or take a break, I was raised in this life.” Sam wasn’t even sure if he could tell Dean what he was trying to say. It didn’t feel like there were words big enough. “I should be rewarded, at some point, maybe after I die or something. I shouldn’t be inhuman. If I stop- if I’m not... Dean, I’m just gonna lose myself.”

Sliding his hands up Sam's thighs, Dean smiled sadly. "You are _not_ going to lose yourself because every damn time you feel like you are, I'm gonna be right here and I'm gonna list off all the reasons why you're not. I'll remind you that you've sacrificed more in the last few weeks than other people can even conceive of, that you love me, you love _me_. We're just _us_ , Sam. I don’t even know how to say it, how to make you believe."

Dean lifted his hands and slid them over Sam's cheeks, thumbs rubbing gently. "You are _so_ crazy amazing. The things you do - I mean - God, I don't even know how you keep going sometimes. And then, I remember what I felt like. When I was in Hell - no matter how many times they sent a face like yours - I _knew_ Sammy. I _knew_ it wasn't you because it didn't feel right. _You?_. I don't know what you and I are - if there's a word for either of us anymore - but you, you feel right." Dean let his hand fall to Sam's chest.

Sam sat in silence for a while, considering what Dean had said and letting it sink in his mind. It wasn’t the easiest thing to believe, that he was normal, or at least that he didn’t need to be defined by anything at all. Sam thought maybe it was human nature, having the desire to call yourself something, everyone wanted labels after all. “And it won’t bug you? If maybe, a few years down the line, if I’m not human at all? What if this just keeps happening? Dean, what if I’m not strong enough to say no? What will I do then?”

“If anyone is strong enough, Sam. It’s you.” Dean was sure of that, in fact, he’d never been more certain of anything in his life. “Besides,” Dean laughed softly, “you gonna say yes to him and give up all this?” Shuffling closer on his knees, Dean nudged at Sam’s legs till they parted and he could press closer. “You’re mine, you promised.”

“I am yours.” Sam nodded and wrapped his arms around Dean’s shoulders and drew him in close. “We can do this,” Sam whispered and pressed his lips hard to Dean’s hair.

Sliding his arms around Sam’s waist, Dean couldn’t help but smile slightly against the man’s warmth. There was nothing inhuman about Sam, it didn’t matter _what_ anyone said.

-=-=-=-

For the past countless weeks Sam had been stuck in room after room with Dean and Castiel. They’d been researching the ritual, pouring over every little detail until Sam thought his eyes might literally bleed out of his head. He was exhausted, they all were really, but the end was so close Sam thought he could taste it.

Somehow this all led to him pulling up in front of the motel, eyes narrowing for just a moment. He had to admit, some of the feelings he’d felt over the last few weeks really were going to help make everything that much more realistic. Sam kicked his door open and stood, slamming the door shut behind him and crossing to the angel and the demon there. They’d been off gathering even more ingredients for the ritual and Sam had been left behind to stay out of harms way.

Now he paced up to them, jaw clenching. “If you two could just stop eye fucking long enough to let me into the motel that would be great.”

Dean slammed a copper bowl down against his leg. “You know, Sam. I’ve had _enough._ ”

Castiel blinked slowly and took a step back from the two men. “The bowl is one of a kind, Dean.”

“Fuck off.” Dean spun back to Sam. “No more comments about me and him, okay? You know full well there’s nothing going on here and you’re starting to really get up my ass, Sam. Cas is an angel - they don’t _do_ whatever it is you think we’re doing.”

“How do I know that? They could do that. For all I know you two have been having private rendezvous whenever I’m passed out. If I can be not human Cas can be not angel.” Sam shot a look at Castiel then back at Dean, scowling.

“Not angel? _Jesus_ Christ,” Dean muttered.

“Dean, don’t-”

“So help me, Cas I’ll kick your ass. Stay out of this, please you know what he’s like.” Dean turned back to Sam. “Listen, you’re tired and you’re all messed up in the head. You need to back off before you say something you’ll regret.

“I’m _tired_? How often do you say that to me? Jesus Dean, can’t you ever accept that I’m really just _feeling_ this way? Not like we’ve had a lot of time to really be anything!” Sam snapped, shoving at Dean’s arm.

“Sam, you’re crossin’ lines all over the place. _Don’t_ put your hands on me like that.” Dean’s heart was racing and he glanced over at Castiel.

Castiel stepped between the two men and held up a hand. “Sam, calm down, this is _not_ the time for this kind of pettiness.”

“It’s not- Fucking _Hell_ there will never be a time.” Sam stepped back, away from Castiel and Dean, further back until his legs bumped into the fender of the Impala. “You actually think we can do this? You’re actually that insane? Both of you? Because _this_ \- all this stupid ritual stuff with the blood and the blade and the freaking goat’s _brains_ will never, ever, work. Dean will get sent back to hell, Castiel - no fucking clue what will happen to you and at absolute _best_ I’ll be killed.” Sam’s heart was racing, but he kept his gaze focused on Dean, trying to speak through a look alone.

“Seriously? You _seriously_ want to do this?” Dean tried to step out from behind Castiel, but the angel threw an arm out in front of him, gripping the demon’s jacket. “Cas, lemme go.” Dean struggled against the angel’s grasp.

“Sam,” Dean’s eyes narrowed. “What... what are you thinking? What’s going on?’

“I think there are battle lines.” Sam muttered, dropping his gaze finally to the ground before squaring his shoulders and shoving his hands into his pockets. “We all know we’ll fail, just finally realized I wanted to be on the winning side when it came down to it.” Sam thought it was maybe one of the hardest things he’d ever had to say and he pulled his hands free, stepping toward Dean and grabbing his hand, pressing a piece of paper between their palms. “Get out while you can, right? Enjoy your angel, Dean.”

Sam forced himself to step back, turning to the Impala and pushing forward until he could tug the door open. As he started up the car Sam stared out at Dean and Castiel, clenching his jaw to keep from saying anything more. He didn’t look in his rear view mirror as he pulled out of the parking lot because he just didn’t think he was strong enough.

-=-=-=-

Sam drove for two days, but it felt like longer. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to settle his mind for the inevitable or if he was trying to build up the amount of strength he was going to need to handle this. The silence was something he wasn’t accustomed too, not after so many months of always having someone else there at his side.

When he finally stopped it was in the middle of nowhere. Seemed a good enough place as any. Sam parked his car secluded behind a grove of trees and ran a hand through his hair, sighing softly before climbing out. Some part of Sam had always known this would be his fate. He was walking down this path and there was a pretty good chance he wasn’t going to survive, Sam had accepted that a long time ago.

He carried a small bag in his pocket and he pulled it out in the middle of a field, stooping down to slowly sprinkle it out around the ground. It blended in with the dirt, impossible to detect and Sam straightened up, stepping away to bury the trash under a small bush. Things settled, Sam walked back to the patch of dirt and curled his fingers into fists, tilting his head back.

“Alright Lucifer, you want me? Come and get me.” He forced himself to _say_ the words, resisting the yell he felt coursing through him. He just needed to get this over with. “Come on, I know you’re listening. You honestly gonna start being shy now?” They’d been dancing around encounters with Lucifer for a while now, seemingly always one step behind.

“Now now Sam, no need to get testy.” Lucifer’s smooth and deep voice echoed behind Sam and he turned to him, fighting off the sneer. “Good to see you. Where are your proverbial shoulder creatures?”

Last time Sam, Dean, and Castiel had seen Lucifer - in a cemetery in New Jersey - he’d taken great joy in pointing out the angel and demon on Sam’s shoulders. It was an old joke and Sam wasn’t in the mood to hear it. “Yeah, right, you’re hilarious. Look I’ve come to some decisions regarding you.”

“Oh?” Lucifer’s head tilted just to the side and he stepped forward, slowly walking around Sam. “Already? I honestly thought it would take you a few more months.”

“I’m tired of waiting. Tired of losing. Fucking _tired_ of life.” Sam shrugged, exhaling slowly but not turning to Dean. “Figured there’s no point in really fighting it if it’s just gonna happen anyway.”

“Really, Sam? Never thought you’d just quit anything.” Lucifer’s breath was rotting and warm against Sam’s neck, the amusement clear in his voice. “Are you really tired of life? Or has your precious little demon finally hurt you too much? Did your heart get broken, Sam? Was it my brother’s fault?”

Sam glanced down, watching the area where Lucifer’s shoes moved in the items buried in dirt. Exactly where Sam wanted him. “Oh, Castiel? Seriously? Like he could really be more appealing than me.” He stepped away from Lucifer and turned, back stepping and bracing his shoulders. “Castiel might be a little trickier than we know though.”

Dean felt like all the air was sucked out of his lungs because he'd been in the middle of talking when Castiel had reached out and grabbed him. He staggered forward when his feet hit solid ground and started coughing. Rubbing his hand quickly across his face, Dean glanced up and saw the wind whip at Lucifer's clothing. "Hey, you miss me?"

As soon as Lucifer's eyes moved to Dean, Castiel threw himself forward, landing hard on the soft ground at the Devil's feet. His arm came over his head in a wide arc and he stabbed the blood covered blade down into the ground. As soon as the blade pierced the ground electricity crackled in the air. Dean fell backwards as the impact of it knocked into him. Twisting as he hit the ground, he held his hand up to block the dust out of his eyes. "Sammy!"

In three quick strides Sam was at Dean’s side, grabbing his arm to pull him close. It was kind of a thrill to know they’d fooled Lucifer. Whoever Lucifer had sent to spy on them had bought their fight and now it was finally coming to an end. “I’ve got you Dean,” he murmured, smiling briefly at him before looking back at Lucifer.

“Well, color me surprised. You clever little boys.” Lucifer laughed softly and looked over at Castiel, his eyes narrowing. “Brother, you realize you aren’t welcome in Hell, right? You would never be able to knock me in.” Lucifer shook his head and turned his gaze to Sam. “And you? Sam? You’re not even close to being strong enough to push me in.”

Castiel pushed back up to his feet and staggered back away from the whirlwind that was whipping up around Lucifer.

Dean still clutched the paper Sam had given him when he left. Two days ago and it felt like a million years since he’d seen Sam’s face. Reaching for Sam’s hand, Dean pressed the paper back into Sam’s palm and blinked quickly a few times so he could see Sam’s face clearly.

Turning back to Lucifer, Dean nodded almost imperceptibly at Cas and broke into a run. “They can’t, but I can,” he called out. Closing his eyes as soon he was close enough, Dean barreled into Lucifer at top speed, arms wrapping around the fallen angel. It felt for a moment like Lucifer might manage to regain his balance, and then Dean felt the pull of the hole Castiel had opened.

Realization dawned slowly on Sam then his heart sank, his stomach churned as he watched Dean running forward then falling and felt the roughness of paper on his skin. “Dean!” Sam yelled, immediately running for the hole and Dean, anything to keep him from disappearing again. “Dean! No!”

Castiel moved lightning fast and grabbed hold of Sam, gripping the hunter's arms tightly and stopping him from getting any closer. "Sam, let him go," he called out over the cacophony of sound pummeling them. “It has to be him.”

Dean was sure he heard Sam’s voice, his _Sammy_ and then he just tightened his grip on Lucifer and let himself fall. If there was one reason worth doing this - it was Sam.

“No!” Sam yelled louder, struggling against the angel even though it was too late. There was a final glimpse of Dean’s face then he was falling, the whooshing intensifying for just a moment then the ground was swirling and closing and it was over. Dean was _gone_ and Sam hadn’t even known it was coming.

“This isn’t real. This isn’t happening.” Sam shook his head roughly and shoved at Castiel again, but the angel’s grip was strong even though the hole had long gone. “Why would he do that? How could you let that happen? Jesus Christ Castiel let me _go_.”

"Sam, listen to me. It had to be Dean; he was the only one of us who could do it. I believe this is when I'm supposed to tell you that he said he would give up anything for you." Castiel loosened his grip slightly now that the danger had passed.

Stumbling back from Castiel, Sam blinked at him, eyes blurring with tears. His mind still hadn’t caught up to what had happened, he couldn’t understand it, and he didn’t want to believe it was real.

“I don’t fucking care about that self righteous bull shit. How could he do this to me? How could he just leave me like this, after everything? We were supposed to have a life now! This was our chance, we were gonna get the fucking dog and everything and he just-” Sam lunged for Castiel, shoving his fists uselessly against the angel’s chest. “Why didn’t you tell me? We could have found another way! We could have done something different that didn’t lead to me not having him!”

Castiel curled his fingers around Sam's fists and slowed the man's blows. "Sam, listen to me. Dean wanted you to be alive, he kept saying it was important to you to have a normal life - that you wanted _that_ more than anything. He could give you that, Sam. He was the only one who could do this. Your demon knew you very well, and ... I believe he loved you very much." Castiel's fingers tightened briefly on Sam's wrists as the hunter finally stopped tugging at his grip.

“I didn’t want a normal life. I wanted _him_.” Sam whispered and stepped back from Castiel, shaking his head. “Why couldn’t he ever understand that?” Sam stared down at the ground for a long moment, trying to figure out how he might be able to open the hole once more though it was pointless.

Eventually the burn of tears in his eyes blurred the ground so much Sam had to look away. He was caught somewhere between anger and agony, his entire body felt numb. Rubbing fingers hard over his eyes, Sam slowly lifted his other hand, uncurling his fingers to look at the paper there. When he’d written it before for Dean it had been short and to the point, a simple _I love you_ scrawled across the lines.

The air whooshed out of Sam’s lungs in a painful drawl, his knees weakening as he read the added line. _Get my dog_. A sob tore through Sam that he couldn’t control, body folding down over the ground, the paper fluttering out of his hand. How was he supposed to keep going without Dean? He’d tried to once and it had nearly driven him insane, and even then Sam had been with Dean’s body, waiting for him to come back. There would be none of that now.

Dropping down to one knee, Castiel slid a hand over Sam’s back. “Sam,” he shifted closer and slid an arm under Sam’s chest to lift him up and cradle him slightly. “Sam, I am so very sorry for your loss. I know. Dean said I’m not very good with people, but I will try. Whatever I can do. I will actually ... miss your demon.”

A surprised laugh broke from Sam’s sob and he looked up at Castiel, blinking away lingering tears. “How long have you known?” Sam couldn’t believe they’d kept such a big thing from him, though of course they would know he would argue against it. But he’d never even had the chance to say goodbye and the last thing he’d said to Dean before today had been _enjoy your angel_. Fuck.

"Ever since the day you drove away. I had to actually stop Dean from going after you. Even though we all knew you were pretending, he was worried for you. He even punched me, although, I think it was far worse for him that it was for me. When he finally calmed down, we spent a long time talking about it and ... we realized there was no other way. I asked him if he had to choose between having you or having you live the rest of your life in a better world which he would choose." Castiel smiled slightly.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.” Sam whispered hoarsely and slowly pushed up to his feet, stepped back and wiping his sleeves along his eyes. He couldn’t let himself think about never seeing Dean again, never touching him, never just _being_ with him.

“Jesus, we’ve been working so hard on this, constantly, I don’t even remember the last time we kissed. I can’t do this without him, there’s no reason too.” Sam looked slowly around the field like it could give Dean back to him.

"Dean said you might say that and he told me to remind you that you promised him a dog. And apparently, you promised a cabin by a large body of water? He said that his no longer being here doesn't mean you can break those promises. Dean also insisted that I promise _him_ that I would 'kick your ass' if you needed it. I'm not sure I'm quite the right person to judge that." Castiel shrugged slightly and pressed his lips together.

“Jesus.” Sam whispered his voice tight. It was just like Dean to make Castiel say things like that. Sam kind of wanted to punch him, but he wanted him back more than that. “He can’t do this to me; he can’t expect me to just keep living. I’m- god, no matter what all of you think I am just a human and there’s only so much _loss_ I can take.” Sam looked over at Castiel, knowing there was only so much the angel could do. Eventually, Sam would have to deal with this grief on his own. “What if I don’t want to go on without him?”

Castiel looked down at the ground for a few moments before locking his gaze with Sam's. "I don't have any answers, Sam. Loss is a part of life and sometimes lives are full of loss without any real explanation or reason. I have faith, Sam, so things are different for me. I don't know what you believe in, but you seemed to believe in your love for the demon. Maybe ... maybe that is what you have to focus on. Maybe you need to do the things you promised to do."

Castiel reached out stiffly and rubbed Sam's shoulder. "Dean said drinking beer might help and I'm willing to do that with you if you like."

“He would say that,” Sam mumbled and tilted his head down, hating the idea of leaving the spot in case Dean came back. He wasn’t going to though. “Stop calling him the demon okay? I know you don’t mean it in a bad way but just, call him Dean for a while okay?” Sam’s breath hitched in a half sob and he turned to Castiel before the angel could move, stepping in to wrap arms around him. “Can you drive?” He whispered, holding on tight enough to tell the angel that this was what he needed at the moment.

Castiel nodded slowly and wrapped his arms around Sam. "I will miss Dean," he said softly.

Closing his eyes around the fresh wave of tears, Sam tilted his head down to Castiel’s shoulder and inhaled slowly. “Yeah, I will miss him too.” Sam wasn’t prepared for a life alone, but it was really starting to look like he didn’t have much choice.

-=-=-=-

There were days in the beginning when Sam didn’t do anything at all. Sometimes he would sit parked on the side of the road and simply stare out the windshield, trying to find the motivation to move on, to drive somewhere, to do _anything_. Sometimes it hurt so badly Sam could barely breathe and he climbed out of the car and dry heaved at the side of the road. Those were the worst days and they felt like they lasted forever.

When Sam finally began to drive it was a couple of weeks later at least. He still hadn’t fully accepted the idea that Dean was gone, but he’d adjusted to the silence. Even when Castiel randomly appeared - likely to make sure Sam wasn’t being reckless or something - Sam couldn’t think of anything to say to him and it seemed like the angel understood enough not to push him.

It took Sam a month to find a cabin at a lake. It was secluded, ten miles outside of a small town, and the real estate agent gave him a look that suggested Sam was crazy to want to purchase it. Sam thought Dean would have loved it though, no matter how much work it needed. In fact, he probably would have loved it _because_ of the work that needed to be done. Dean had a thing for fixer-uppers.

The first week in the cabin Sam had a list two pages long of things to repair. He started with the back and front doors, knowing they’d be most important to following through with the rest of his promise to Dean. Somewhere around sanding the wood for the door replacements and screwing in the hinges for the front door of the first house that was ever _Sam’s_ , he had something close to a revelation.

The ache in his chest and the numbness of his being had eased and, no matter how much he missed Dean, he finally accepted his death, accepted that he wouldn’t be a part of his life any longer. Sam wasn’t sure how long it would take him to really move on, to stop thinking of Dean at night and nearly crying himself to sleep, but the first time it happened he felt like he would be able to, at some point, be better.

Two weeks later Sam got a dog. That damn stupid dog Dean had been railing at Sam about for months, maybe longer. Sam had never really been able to measure how long they were together in the end.

He named the dog Zeppelin because it seemed like something Dean would call him. He was a mutt, a mixture of so many different breeds the girl’s at the pound hadn’t been able to name even one. He had chocolate brown fur spotted with white and light brown and bright eyes that looked green in certain lights. Sam had known he was the perfect dog the moment he saw him.

The girls at the pound had warned Sam that the dog tended to act out; that he shouldn’t be trusted alone in the house, but Sam didn’t care. And as it turned out Zeppelin wasn’t as bad as they’d thought. He followed Sam around as he worked on the porch, pulled the weeds in the yard, cleaned up the path down to the lake, polished the outside walls. Sam didn’t speak much to him, but Zeppelin never strayed, always planted down under the nearest shade and waited.

Life continued on at a steady pace, Sam continued to work on the cabin from the moment he woke until dinner. He spent his evenings reading or simply sitting outside, staring out at the lake and drinking a beer and trying to tell himself this would at some point be worth it. Every so often Sam would go into town, letting Zeppelin ride in the passenger seat with the window rolled down. Before he cut up all his fake cards Sam had taken out all the money he could.

It wouldn’t last him long, but it would give him enough time to get better. Then he’d find a job, do something, and try anything to make himself feel a little more human. Sam wasn’t quite sure how one person lived through monsters and ghosts and Lucifer, then losing the love of his life, and still managed to keep going. Sam kept thinking he’d get bored but so far it hadn’t all sunk in.

And then, just like his life always went, everything changed once more on a Wednesday evening. Sam had made himself a steak because he was fairly certain the cabin was more than halfway fixed up and he felt like having a reward. He was just in the midst of eating his baked potato when there was a knock on the door.

Besides one of the girls from the pound turning up a few days after he’d gotten Zeppelin - which led to an awkward encounter in which Sam had let it be known he wasn’t interested - no one had come to his home. The road to the cabin was out of the way; almost a mile from the Main Street, and Sam didn’t go about advertising his address.

Zeppelin’s head tilted as he stood but he didn’t bark, just trailed along after Sam as he crossed through the kitchen and living room to the oak front door. Sam stepped back when he pulled the door open, his heart skipping a beat as his jaw slowly dropped.

Dean - _his Dean_ \- was right there, looking as beautiful as ever. Next to him stood Castiel and Sam hadn’t seen him in almost three months, but he looked exactly the same. Dean though, his skin looked so much softer, his eyes brighter, the tentative smile on his lips brightening just a little like he couldn’t help it after seeing Sam.

“You’re not real,” Sam finally whispered, dipping down to catch Zeppelin’s collar when the dog moved forward. “I’ve already accepted you’re not coming back and I can’t do this again.”

Dean looked down at the dog at Sam's feet and smiled briefly. When his gaze met Sam's again he could see the hurt written all over the man's face. "Sam... " Dean's eyes welled with tears and he glanced hurriedly over at Castiel.

The angel stepped forward and smiled softly at Sam. "Sam, he _is_ real ... but he's not your demon anymore."

Lifting his fingers toward the dog, Dean looked down so Sam wouldn't see the tears on his cheeks. "Made me fuckin' human again," he muttered. "Gotta do this all over again."

When Sam's eyes widened and he looked over at Castiel - the angel simply nodded.

“But... human? How is that possible? Who could possibly make him human?” Sam’s surprise had him releasing the dog’s collar and Zeppelin moved forward as if he couldn’t wait to greet Dean.

“Zeppelin,” Sam called softly, reaching out then dropping his hand when it almost brushed Dean’s. When would he get used to being shocked by things?

Dean shrugged and finally lifted his gaze. Sam was about the most amazing thing he’d ever seen. Zeppelin nuzzled against Dean’s hand and it made him smile. Laughing softly, Dean shrugged. “God? I dunno, neither does he, but he says I’m real. I mean, the guy - fuck...” Dean sighed and looked at Castiel again. Everything was all caught up inside him and every time he looked at Sam he felt like his heart was going to beat right out of his chest.

Castiel fixed Sam with his ice blue gaze. “I have no idea, but he’s _your_ Dean just in this new body - his body now. The man who was the previous occupant is in heaven - I think he got the better deal.”

“Sammy?” Dean reached out his hand, scared to touch Sam in case he pulled away. He’d waited a long time to see that Sam was okay; just knowing that would be enough if it had to be.

“God.” Sam sucked in a sharp breath and reached out, grabbing Dean’s arm and tugging him forward. It felt like his Dean, the solid warmth and weight of him, the same faint hint of something spicy and sweet filling his lungs as he breathed in. “Dean, Jesus, I never thought- you went in the pit, I’d finally accepted that. And you just- when did you become... this?” Sam looked over at Castiel as he let go and stepped back. “How did you find him?”

"I found Cas. When I woke up ... I had no idea where I was and I called for him. For once he showed up right away and ... I mean..." Dean shifted; he wanted desperately to fold Sam into his arms again. The touch had been too brief. "I didn't want to come to you until I knew... that I was okay."

Zeppelin whined and nudged at Dean's hand again so he kneeled down to scratch the dog’s ears. "Hi buddy."

Castiel's finger brushed over Dean's shoulder. "Sam, he's staying. I mean, in this body, here on earth. If you want I can find him somewhere else to live for a while. Humans confuse me." Castiel sighed and stepped to the side slightly when Zeppelin’s tail whacked into his leg. "The dog seems to be in favor of keeping Dean."

“Of course he’ll stay here.” Sam didn’t even have a moments doubt about that. Sure he had questions, and there would be stuff they’d have to talk through, but he wasn’t going to let Dean go yet _again_. “You, um, I guess you guys should come in. Cas, are you staying? I uh, have beer?” Sam wasn’t used to having a home to invite people in to and he was more than a little distracted watching Dean on the floor with Zeppelin.

Castiel shook his head and looked serious. “I’m supposed to leave you two alone if it looks like things are going okay.”

Dean groaned and buried his face in Zeppelin’s fur.

“I probably wasn’t supposed to say that. Sam. I’ll return in a few days. Dean? If you need me...” There was a slight smile on the angel’s face in the instant before he disappeared.

“Wow.” Sam looked at the place the angel had last been and wet his lips, stepping back. “So you and Cas are getting along well. How long have you been back?”

“Not long, I- Sam, I was scared to come here.” Dean cleared his throat and stood up. “Because I’m not-” Dean’s lip quivered slightly and he clenched his jaw tighter. “I’m not the same. I mean I am inside, but I know this isn’t what you expected.” He blew out a breath and rubbed at his eyes.

“Because I wouldn’t want you human?” Sam’s eyebrows rose, incredulous. “God Dean, don’t you know what this means? We- I mean, if you want to be here, we could grow old together. If you still want me, we can have this. I won’t have to be alone and I- you’re _human_ and it doesn’t really matter, all that matters is that you’re real, and here, and you.” Sam stepped toward Dean, unable to stop himself from reaching out to touch his jaw. “You’ll always be perfect.”

Closing his eyes, Dean turned into the warmth of Sam's touch. _God_ he'd missed the feel of Sam's hands on him. "I'll get old and cranky. Cranki _er_." Dean laughed softly and stepped a little closer to Sam, fingers reaching out for the front pocket of his jeans. "I never wanted to be anywhere else… and ... I think that's my dog."

“Sure seems like your dog,” Sam murmured and found himself smiling, stepping forward to meet Dean’s movement. “Fixed up the place real good too. Still needs work though.” Sam’s breath hitched as he dipped down, lips barely brushing over Dean’s cheeks, along the bridge of his nose, up over his temple and back down. “Fuck, please tell me I’m not dreaming.” It wouldn’t surprise Sam; he’d had this dream before.

“Feels pretty real to me,” Dean almost whispered. His lashes drifted down to his cheeks because feeling Sam’s lips like that, so soft and gentle against his skin was making him feel a little light headed. Dean’s fingers slipped over Sam’s hips and he stepped close enough to press his body up against Sam’s. A shudder took hold of his body for a few moments and he laughed nervously and turned into Sam’s neck. “Smell the same,” he mumbled. Lips moving gently against Sam’s neck, Dean smiled.

“Still make me feel the same.” Sam hummed softly and reached out blindly, pushing the door closed. “We’re gonna do this right this time.” Sam whispered and pulled back, looking down at Dean. “I’m going to show you the best parts of being human, and even if you get old and cranky that’s fine cause I’ll be old and I’ll just keep making fun of you.” Sam grinned down at him, running his hands through Dean’s hair and down to his shoulders. “You hungry? Thirsty? Do you need anything?”

“Just you,” Dean said softly. It was, after all, all he had thought about from the moment he’d wrapped his arms around Lucifer. “You know, I ... things weren’t so bad before. I’m sure I already know what the best parts are. You, and maybe my dog.” Dean smiled and slid his hands up Sam’s sides, over his chest. “You feel _really_ good,” he murmured.

“Maybe the human thing makes things smell a little and feel and taste a little better.” Sam murmured and grabbed Dean’s hand, pulling him further into the cabin. “Also, you’re a bit obsessed with the dog. Just you wait until he starts licking your face in the morning to get you awake.” Sam laughed, walking backward so he could continue to stare at Dean and really believe he was there. “Want a tour?”

What Dean really wanted was to touch Sam non-stop for the next four days at least, instead, he nodded. “Can we take Zeppelin?” He kinda liked the warm weight of the dog leaning against his leg.

“He’ll follow along. He’s pretty good at following.” Sam chuckled softly and bumped into the wall as they got to the edge of the living room. “This is the kitchen. The appliances came with the place and the stove doesn’t always work, but I’ve been reading a book about how to fix it so I’ll get there. I was eating dinner, I made steak, cause I was...” Sam trailed off as he realized he’d been rambling and tilted his gaze down, smiling shyly down at the ground, but keeping his hand in Dean’s.

"I missed the sound of your voice," Dean said. His fingers tightened on Sam's hand and he turned into him again, walking forward until Sam backed up against the wall. "I'm trying really hard not to just be all over you, but you feel really good, alive..." Dean's lips were so close to Sam's he could feel the man's breath. “Kitchen’s great,” he whispered.

“I think I would be okay with you all over me,” Sam murmured and leaned back against the wall because his knees felt a little weak. “I could always give you a tour later.” With that Sam dipped down and crushed his lips hard against Dean’s, groaning the moment their mouths touched. It felt like it had been a lifetime since they last kissed, Sam had never been able to accurately remember the last time, but he would always remember this. His arms wrapped tight around Dean and pulled him in close, holding him tightly as his tongue moved forward.

Dean's heart skipped in his chest, his hand gripping onto Sam's shirt tightly. Everything inside him kind of exploded into a warmth that felt like it might just blow up and consume him. Trembling slightly he leaned hard against Sam's body, the warmth, the strength of it so familiar.

Sam's tongue slid forward, slick, hot and smooth and Dean could feel the way his body arched forward. _His_ Sam, this was _his_ hunter. Restless hands finally let go of Sam's shirt and slid up his neck and into his hair- longer now- Dean could easily grip it tightly and moved Sam into a deeper kiss.

Moaning low and deep into the kiss, Sam’s arms tightened around Dean and he pulled him back, sliding across the wall in the kitchen until they were stumbling back into the hallway. “Bedroom,” he mumbled against Dean’s mouth, hands slipping under his clothes and along his chest. Dean’s skin was warm, burning against his finger tips and Sam couldn’t get enough.

His shoulder crashed hard into the wall of his bedroom and Sam groaned, hands changing direction to tuck under Dean’s ass and tug him hard up, nearly losing his grip until Dean’s legs wrapped around his middle. “God, Dean,” he moaned and dug his fingers into Dean’s ass, pressing into worn denim.

Tugging hard on Sam's hair, Dean managed to keep his lips sliding over Sam's. He could barely suck in breath and the heat of Sam's body between his legs was killing him. "Sam, I missed you," he breathed. Then Sam's lips were on his again, fingers gripping his ass hard and Dean could only moan.

Somehow, they made it all the way to the bed and Sam practically fell forward onto Dean. The breath whooshed out of Dean's body and he gasped then rolled up into Sam's weight. He slid his palms down Sam's neck and along his shoulders, blinking slowly as he leaned up to suck kisses along Sam's bottom lip.

“Missed you,” Sam mumbled and pulled back long enough to tug his shirt off and throw it to the side before reaching down Dean’s, dragging it off just as fast. He fell back on Dean, lips sliding along his lover’s neck. “This okay?” He remembered the last time Dean had gone to Hell and how long it took for him to be okay with Sam holding him down on the mattress.

"Yeah, I'll hurt you if you stop." Dean's eyes widened and he laughed nervously because _seriously_ Sam... God. No one looked like Sam when he was like this. His lips all wine red and swollen, the way the tip of his tongue just slipped out to wet his lips and that tell-tale pink flush on his neck and ruddy cheeks. "You're gorgeous," Dean sighed.

Tightening his legs, he rocked up into Sam’s body, his body following the wave of another shudder.

“No, you.” Sam laughed hoarsely and rocked his body back into Dean’s, seeking out more heat and friction. “Dean, I need you.” He gasped against Dean’s neck, hands sliding down his bare chest and down to his jeans. For just a moment he entertained the crazy idea of where the hell Dean got his clothing, but then it was all skin and muscle again and Sam couldn’t get enough.

Dropping his feet back to the bed, Dean arched up when Sam finally managed to unfasten his jeans. Just the feel of the material sliding down his bare hips had Dean worked up into a kind of fever. His skin was crawling, wanting to be pressed up against his lover's again. Shoving at Sam's waist, he tried to get the man's jeans undone and failed miserably. He was all thumbs, too clumsy with want. "Sam... gettem off," he growled softly.

“God.” Sam gasped and pushed up, sliding swiftly off the bed until he was standing. He smiled down at Dean for a long moment, unfastening his button and dragging the zipper slowly down. Dean groaned and sat up, reaching out for him and Sam laughed, surprisingly giddy with the thrill of having Dean back.

He shoved quickly out of his jeans and kicked them to the side, sliding his boxers down a moment later and hurrying across the room to grab the lube from the top drawer of his dresser. When he finally was crawling back on the bed Dean’s brows were raised and Sam laughed. “Shut up. I just haven’t been feeling much need for any sort of pleasuring.”

“Well, it’s not like I would know. If you did. But you didn’t. Like no one?” Dean blushed slightly and rubbed at the colour on his cheek. “It’d be okay. I think.” It had never even occurred to Dean that Sam might move on but then, he’d been thinking of other things.

“You’re crazy. You’d be wicked jealous if I slept with anyone else and I know it.” Sam laughed softly and dipped down, kissing his way up Dean’s leg. “It’s like me getting jealous about Castiel. I don’t care what you say, he may be an angel and not wired that way, but I see the way he looks at you. And touches you.” Sam paused over Dean’s hips, looking up at him with a faint smirk. “Gonna have to claim you properly now that your relationship isn’t _as_ unlikely.”

“Never was likely,” Dean scoffed. But - he was relieved, he didn’t want Sam to belong to anyone else, just _him_. Reaching down he ghosted his fingers over the top of Sam’s ear then down his cheek. “C’mon up here and kiss me.”

Chuckling softly, Sam dipped down and licked a slow line up Dean’s cock then crawled up, lips gently passing over Dean’s. “I suggest a heart tattoo.” He murmured into the kiss and pressed down again, lips rolling harder and longer over his lover’s.

Some kind of sound escaped Dean’s lips, a cross between a sigh and a moan and then Sam’s tongue was in his mouth again, sweeping and thrusting and Dean’s body trembled from head to toe. Sam had always made him feel so much but now, somehow, it felt like more. Maybe it was because he was _in_ this body now - _his_ body. This was _forever_.

His arms snaked around Sam’s neck and tightened, holding his hunter close. Sam’s mouth moved against his roughly then just when Dean felt like it would drive him crazy the kisses changed, soft and sweet, a tenderness that took Dean’s breath away.

“God I missed you,” Sam whispered and it hit him hardest right then and there. He could look back over their roller coaster relationship; the way he never thought he’d trust Dean in the beginning then later, when Dean became the only reason Sam lived.

Rolling his hips down against Dean’s, Sam moaned softly and slid his fingers down Dean’s sides, sliding to the side so his fingers could curl around his lover’s cock and slowly stroke. “Don’t ever leave me again, okay?” He murmured against Dean’s ear, catching the fleshly lobe between his teeth and dragging out.

“Never,” Dean whispered. His mouth dragged down Sam’s neck, sucking and nipping his way down. Stopping when he reached Sam’s collar bone, Dean sighed and clung to the man for a few moments, panting softly. “Can’t believe this is real,” he whispered.

“I know.” Sam was still having a hard time believing himself. He reached out and fumbled with the bottle of lube a moment later, slicking his fingers and nudging Dean’s legs wider with the press of his wrist. Dean didn’t feel any different, he didn’t seem like anyone other than _his_ Dean, except the lack of darkness in his eyes. Part of Sam wanted to know how he’d been brought back, but mostly he was ready to just take it for the gift it was. “You want this?” Sam whispered, slowly circling Dean’s entrance just in case he’d changed his mind about allowing this.

"You crazy?" Dean's body was already twisting, his spine arching just a little to push his ass down against Sam's finger. "More than ever," he whispered. Shaking slightly, he laughed quietly and then moaned when Sam's finger pressed slightly into him. The burn was richer and more intense and Dean closed his eye and gasped in a breath of air. Catching his bottom lip under his teeth, he frowned slightly and slanted his hips to the side as his body adjusted.

Moaning softly, Sam slowly slid his finger in deep, crooking and twisting to spread Dean further apart. He was impossibly tight, like his body had never been touched before and Sam buried his face into Dean’s neck as his hips rolled, slightly frantic, against the man’s side. By the time he had three fingers buried deep inside Dean, Sam was panting against his lover’s skin, his hips in a constant slow roll. “Need to be in you,” Sam gasped against Dean’s ear, almost shuddering from the want coursing through him.

"Please," Dean said softly. There was no question in his mind that he _wanted_ Sam. Nothing felt better than this, the way their bodies fit together, the way Sam's breath skittered down Dean's skin. Right there, in that moment, Dean was pretty sure he was just starting to realize everything they'd been through had been completely worth it.

Pulling his fingers back, Sam quickly stroked along his cock, more than eager and desperate to be in his lover. He shifted between Dean’s legs, spreading them further before scooping them up and hooking them over his shoulders. His eyes locked with Dean’s as he lined up, slowly pushing just barely forward. For the first time in a long while Sam had no desire to see any darkness in Dean’s eyes because, just there, he thought he could _see_ that same thing, the thing he’d seen in the darkness.

“Dean,” Sam gasped softly and slowly worked forward, holding himself back from thrusting hard forward like he so badly wanted too.

Dean sucked in a deep breath and held it to try and fight the way his muscles were threatening to clench. Sam's cock was so thick and Dean could feel the way his body resisted for just a few moments and then the slight relief as the head breached the tight ring of muscle. Letting the air rush out of his lungs, Dean panted and reached up to grip his own thighs. The way his body was bent he could hardly breathe, but he didn't care. He just wanted _Sam._

There was a good possibility that Sam had never felt anything as tight as being buried in Dean like this. Dean’s body was nearly folded in half by the time he was all the way in and Sam simply stared down at his lover, wetting his lips slowly.

“I love you,” Sam finally murmured and dipped down, catching Dean’s lips in a hard kiss before his hips pulled back, thrusting in slow circles down into his lover.

All the sounds that were trying to escape from Dean's body were caught by Sam's mouth. Each time Sam thrust hard into him, Dean could feel his body jolting, the energy of it spinning though him. Stretching his arms out, he could only _just_ reach the broad plane of Sam's back and he dragged his nails along the man's flesh.

Rocking hips body up as much as he could, Dean thrust back. He wanted Sam deeper, wanted _more_. His heart was pounding so fast he couldn't even think and his tongue flicked forward into the heat of Sam's mouth.

Sam’s pace steadily increased as the desire to move grew stronger and more intense through him. He pulled back quickly and thrust hard forward, needing to be deeper, completely encased in his lover. His body met Dean’s with each thrust down, his eyes falling closed as he bent Dean’s body further, slowly letting Dean’s legs slide down from his shoulders and hooking arms under his body once more.

Sam could remember the last time he’d taken Dean like this, deep and intense and the best thing he’d ever felt. He wasn’t going to last long, but he didn’t care, he had a whole life time to enjoy this with Dean. Sam moaned into the touch of this lips and drove forward, seeking that place in Dean that would drive him crazy.

Dean wrapped his legs around Sam's body, squeezing tightly, driving his heated flesh deeper. As his hips rolled up at just the right moment, Sam's cock slid past the sensitive nerves deep inside him and Dean's entire existence was rattled. Shaking, he lurched up into Sam's body as his vision faded away with the rushing of air out of his lungs. "Sam," he murmured over and over before simply keening into the hunter's neck.

Heart slamming hard into his chest, Sam’s hips lost their rhythm, the pace stuttering and holding as his orgasm slowly curled through him. His hand slipped between their bodies, hips drawing back so he could jerk Dean in quick time with his sharp thrusts. He could feel the shudder in Dean’s body and his lips crushed hard against his lover’s as his release coursed through him, filling Dean with each deep thrust forward.

Dean had come so hard his cock ached, his balls pressed up tight against his body. Even his chest ached and he realized he was holding his breath again. The heat of Sam's come filling him sent the strangest heated shivers up Dean's spine and his muscle tightened and trembled under Sam's weight.

When he could finally breathe without moaning, Dean smiled and realized his lips were still pressed to Sam's. Softening the touch he lapped at Sam's bottom lip and hummed quietly. His entire body was tingling and weak and _God_ he loved Sam.

Eventually Sam collapsed into Dean’s neck, panting against his skin. And he would have been content to stay there until he remembered that Dean needed to breathe now and that probably wasn’t going to be very easy with Sam pressing weight down on him. Slowly he pulled his hips back and pushed up on his hands, staring down at Dean and half smiling. “Still as amazing.”

"Better," Dean mumbled. His body felt all loose and boneless and he really hoped that Sam didn't expect him to move for a while. "I love you," he said softly. He'd waited a long time to say it again - there didn't seem to be any point in keeping it to himself.

Smile brightening, Sam nodded and pulled back, curling on his side next to Dean and pulling him in close. “I love you too,” he murmured against Dean’s shoulder. He’d just tugged the blanket over them when there was a soft bark and Zeppelin was jumping up on the bed trampling over their bodies. “I uh, might have let him sleep on the bed.”

Dean laughed and then groaned when Zeppelin stepped on his stomach. "God! He's a beast!" Rolling to the side he nestled into Sam's side partly for protection and mostly because it was about the best damn place in the world. “So - the dog sleeps on the bed with you, huh?” Dean grinned against Sam’s chest.

“It’s a giant bed! I was lonely,” Sam reasoned and it was true, the bed was the biggest he’d ever seen and he hadn’t been able to resist buying it. “C’mon, the three of us can fit.” Sam wrapped his arms around Dean and held him as close as possible, laughing softly when Zeppelin tried to wiggle up between them. “Zepp, off.” Sam rolled slightly to the side, trying to dislodge the dog.

“Is he part limpet?” Dean laughed when Zeppelin rode Sam as he rolled. “Leave him be, ya bully. He’s part of our family.” Just saying that made Dean’s heart feel all weird - like it was pumping up full of hot air or something and he grinned even wider.

“It’s your fault; he’s clearly decided you’re the Mommy in our relationship.” Sam groaned and flopped over onto his stomach, burying his head under the pillow. “You two are gonna kill me!”

Dean burrowed under the pillow too, pressing his lips to Sam’s cheek. “I kinda think you love us both,” he whispered. Then Zeppelin shoved a wet nose under the other side of Sam’s pillow and Dean was laughing again. Yeah. Life was pretty much going to be perfect this time around.

Sam’s heart clenched happily and he hooked his arm over Dean and Zeppelin - though the dog started to wiggle away the moment he did. He’d waited his whole life to be this happy and he’d never thought he was going to have it then finally, here it was. Sam pushed the pillow up more so he could see Dean and smiled. “Just you and me and the dog now?”

“Yup. Seems good, yeah? Maybe an occasional visit from that annoying angel of yours.” Dean nudged Sam with his shoulder. “You, you’re all I need Sammy. Always were.”

“He’s your angel.” Sam grumbled then smiled bright at him, shifting close until their lips met. “I’d say we’re pretty good together.”

~~Their beginning~~


End file.
